Fellagirly
by AdmHawthorne
Summary: Jane shows Maura her femme side. Maura shows Jane her butch side. Co-written by Googlemouth. Repost. Originally posted on 6/27/2011
1. Chapter 1

**Googlemouth has decided to completely retire. As such, she's taking down her FFN account soon, and she's allowed me the chance to repost what we worked on together.**

**This was originally posted on 6.27.2011**

**Characters aren't ours. They belong to Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro, Turner Broadcasting, Warner Brothers, and other assorted important people. I gain nothing from writing these stories but the fun of doing it. Please don't sue me.**

**This story was co-written with Googlemouth.**

**Note from her: **

**Title: "Fellagirly" is a term coined by comedienne Elvira Kurt, describing what happens when a tomboy grows past adolescence without losing her… ****_sporty_**** qualities.**

* * *

"What, you think I don't do girly stuff?" demanded Detective Jane Rizzoli as her best friend and co-workers expressed varying levels of doubt.

Vince Korsak, her former partner and the most senior detective assigned to Boston's homicide investigation unit, chuckled at his desk, muttering, "Yeah, because monster truck rallies are seriously girly." Her current partner, Barry Frost, snickered behind his hand until the fit overtook him and made him laugh openly, head shaking.

Jane made a swatting motion with her left hand, as if backhanding all three of them at once. "Shut up, Korsak. If I needed to hear that crap from you, I'd have stayed partnered with you." It was a low blow, given how it had hurt Vince when Jane had requested a new partner, but at least he did know the real reason. He took her point: no more open season on Jane's femininity. "And you can shove it, too, Frost. What are you, that ridiculous little monkey-thing sitting on Jabba the Hutt's shoulder and cackling? I do plenty of girly stuff. Just because I don't do it at work… Look, around here I'm not a girl. I'm a detective. I don't need you two giving me crap about things that have jack to do with my job, got it?"

Only Maura Isles, chief medical examiner for the Boston Police Department, seemed to believe Jane's assertion. "Of course you do," she replied with a smile. "I've seen the way you look on dates. You do your hair beautifully when you try, which means you at least know how, and I heard you making an appointment for a pedicure last week. You also cook very well, despite the fact that being expected by others to do so annoys you. Not that those activities are exclusive to females, of course. My hairdressers have almost all been men, for instance, and a majority of chefs are men. But you do several things that are… not exclusively masculine."

"Not _exclusively_ masculine? _That's_ the best you can do?" Jane turned on her best friend, worked up almost to the point of saying something regrettable. "Wasn't it my idea to go watch that chick movie last month?"

Maura considered all the movies the two of them had attended, looking puzzled for a long moment. At last, a dim memory rose to the surface of her thoughts. "You mean the revival showing of _Terminator II_ at the Bijou three weeks ago?" she asked, causing both of the guys to snigger.

"No, smartass. I'm talking about that special showing of _Roman Holiday_ that was at that little theater." The detective gave a heavy sigh. "Maura, why are you even up here, anyway?

In answer, Maura held up a quartet of files. "I have the results for the Nordquist autopsies for all of you to look over." The results Crowe was awaiting, he would get later, through inter-office mail. Dr. Maura Isles, chief medical examiner of the Boston Police Department, was no one's lackey. She only brought up files when _she_ wanted to be upstairs. "Also, it's a little chilly down there, and I thought, since I've finished my work, I'd come up and say hello."

She paused before returning to the conversation she had interrupted. "You know, Jane, every human being has a unique blend of traits determined by biological and psychological needs and influences. You do a lot of things that many people would perceive as being masculine, such as your love of sport, your job which is traditionally held mostly by men, your distaste for fashion, your lackadaisical approach to grooming…"

"Okay, enough of that," Jane growled as she turned back to her computer screen and away from the three of you. "If you just came up here to warm up and point out my faults, you can step over there next to the rest of the men in my life," Jane gave Maura a pointed look.

"They're not faults," Maura corrected her friend brightly. "They're just traits. There's nothing inherently wrong with any of them. What I was _going_ to say was that although you do have many traits that are commonly considered masculine, you also have some that would be considered feminine.

"Likewise, Vince," she turned to the big, salt-and-pepper teddy bear, "has a few feminine traits here and there, such as his enjoyment of nurturing small creatures. Barry has an eye for fashion, or so I have surmised based on his use of the phrase _do-me heels_. And, and, and I also have some traits, as you know quite well, that might easily be considered masculine. You're just better than some others at being true to all facets of yourself. You're… um. What does one call a tomboy when she grows up? Tomboy makes it sound like it's just a temporary stage, a passing phase. There must be some word that applies to a grown woman, for whom it can no longer reasonably be called merely a stage."

"Don't even," Jane said quietly and with a murderous look to Korsak and Frost, each of whom looked like they were about to pop out some smartass comment.

Maura didn't seem to notice. Her brow furrowed lightly as she sought a word or phrase to describe the way she thought of Jane. It took her a while, but eventually she dismissed her entire, multilingual vocabulary as insufficient to the task. Very well, then, she would have to resort to coining her own word. Possibly a portmanteau, she mused, and then the ideal word sprang to mind. She blurted it out without stopping to think of how it could be perceived. "Fellagirly!" She had the nerve to look proud as she turned her full attention back to Jane.

"_Fellagirly?"_ Jane repeated, irritated beyond precedent. "What the crap?" With a roll of her eyes, she dismissed the conversation in her usual way. "Yeah, fine, we're all one big happy family of gender confused cops and one gender confused medical examiner," Jane grumbled, not bothering to look back from her screen.

Maura's lips pursed, mostly in puzzlement rather than irritation. "That isn't at all what I said, or what I meant."

"_Maura!"_ Dark eyes swung around to meet the gaze of her friend, "Seriously? I'm trying to work here. I get enough of this crap at home from Ma," she mimicked her mother. "Jane, you need to be girlier. How are you going to find someone if you look like you just stepped out of a Home Depot? Why don't you wear a dress? Heels would look better with that. Why can't you be more like _Maura?_ She's so _feminine_. Don't slouch. Can't you find a way to entertain yourself that doesn't involve getting into fist fights?" She rolled her eyes, voice settling back into her normal dark and husky tones, "The last thing I want to hear from the peanut gallery," she pointed at the three of them, "Is how I'm more like Ken than Barbie, okay? So, can we just drop it? We've got a case to crack, which I would think is a hell of a lot more important than how often I wear a dress and a pair of Jimmy Choos."

Korsak cleared his throat and opened a file. Frost turned studiously back to his monitor and returned to his background checks. Both seemed chastised, and easily moved on. Not so easily, Maura's head bowed in contrition, a wordless apology for an offense she had not realized she was committing, and now had little idea how to undo the hurt she had caused. She knew, though, that it _was_ a hurt, because Jane seldom got short with the social maladroit unless she had inadvertently stepped over a line that seemed visible to everyone but herself. "I don't… It's not…" she tried, hoping that if she started talking, the right words would come. They didn't. A sigh escaped her as she turned around and walked out of the bullpen, headed for the safety of her cold, quiet morgue.

* * *

The pathologist had finished four autopsies and their associated paperwork over the past two and a half days, Maura had little practical work she could do before the end of the day. Her new intern had already made the morgue sparkle in her absence, sanitizing equipment and removing scrub gowns, stacking up new ones for the next spate of work. _I guess I could go over my testimony for the Pinksi murder/suicide,_ she contemplated, and sat down.

Even in her state of thin-skinned delicacy, the medical examiner's posture did not suffer, nor did her manners become lax even though she was alone: Maura still sat and crossed her ankles just as she had learned in charm school, still sipped the 'iced' tea that was now lukewarm and watery, bleeding its condensation over the coaster at the edge of her desk rather than gulping it down. She still muttered _drat_ instead of _shit_ as she opened her file drawer and pulled out the information on a case over three years old, which was finally going to court. She still moved with grace rather than slamming the drawer shut with a bang, as she desperately wanted to do, even as her mind threw up pages upon pages of studies she had read – not just read about, but actually delved all the way into – which indicated strongly that those who cursed or indulged in mini-tantrums were less likely to develop peptic ulcers than those who did not.

And she still bent her own mind to her will, studying the case notes on which she would soon be speaking in open court, rather than reviewing all the ways she could have, should have, spoken to her best friend, things Maura did not understand but very much wanted to.

"Do you ever just throw a fit? I mean, even just a little one?" Jane was leaning against the doorframe of the medical examiner's office. "You keep acting like this, and I really am going to think you're a cyborg."

"Tantrums are unproductive," Maura replied, and only then did her upset show. The honey-brunette's voice was thick, her throat constricted with tears, and she had to sniff once before getting the words out. She did not turn around, nor did she look up from her case notes.

"Hey," the detective was suddenly at the doctor's side, kneeling by Maura's chair, "why are you crying? Don't cry. Please don't cry. I hate it when I make you cry."

"You didn't make me cry. I did," replied Maura as she tried to duck the attention. The attempt was unsuccessful, however, so she set down the folder and let her hands fall into her lap, head bowing down. "I was trying to fix what I said, even though I'm not sure what was hurtful about it, but I just made it worse. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just meant that… Well, I guess it doesn't matter what I meant."

"You meant that no one is 100% feminine or 100% masculine, and that leaning one way or another, regardless of a person's chromosomes, doesn't matter. Yeah, I get what you meant." One scar marked hand settled atop Maura's where they rested in her lap. "You just have to understand that showing the other cops that I might _actually_ be more feminine than I let out could hurt my career. If they think of me as a 'girl' as opposed to as a fellow cop, they'll start treating me differently, like I'm weak, and I can't afford that." She sighed. "I came down here to apologize for snapping at you. You didn't deserve that. Ma does." A ghost of a smile ran across her face.

"But that's not what you said," Maura pointed out as she belatedly reached for a tissue to dab her eyes. "Now you're saying you don't want them to think of you as a girl, but up there you were saying you _are_ a girl, and do girly things. That's just the opposite of… Oh," she said as she caught up, as Jane was waiting for her to do. "Reverse psychology. Crude, but apparently effective."

Jane gave a noncommittal shrug. "Sometimes you have to work the system."

Maura peered at Jane through wet lashes stuck together. "But no one was listening except Barry and Vince," she pointed out softly. "They're your friends, Jane. They care about you deeply. They love you and respect you _because_ of all that they know about you, not in spite of it. Why do you think being female, or feminine, is equivalent to being weak? I'm perceived as feminine. Do you see me that way? Do you think I'm weak?"

"No, but you're not a cop, and I don't think this is something I can explain to you _because_ you're not a cop." Jane gave Maura's hands a little squeeze before standing to lean against the medical examiner's desk. "Maura, things work differently in my world, the one I work in. You know the history of how men tend to perceive women. You know the sayings – weaker sex, fairer sex, 'not in front of the women', 'delicate as a flower'." She rolled her eyes. "Women's lib may have come, but the work's not over yet, and, if the other cops start thinking of me like men have thought of women forever, then I won't be able to do my job anymore. That goes double for Frost and Korsak. They have to know without doubt that I can cover their six if I need to. They can't start wondering if _I _am the one that needs protection. I don't need _anyone_ thinking I need a knight in shining armor. Make sense?"

"Yes," Maura replied after a moment, "and no." She stood up, freeing her desk chair and gesturing towards it to offer Jane a seat instead, as she hitched one thigh onto her desk in a posture she certainly had not learned in charm school, the other foot remaining on the floor. Never did she let Jane's hands go. Were her chair six inches shorter, a person sitting on it would have an amply pleasing view up her skirt. "If Frost and Korsak thought of you that way, your concern about this matter would be valid, and I would never say anything about your femininity at work."

She turned away to blow her nose delicately and discreetly dispose of the tissue in her waste basket. "But they don't. You're a badass, Jane. Everyone knows it. Even when you do need someone to protect you, that's nothing that the others don't need from time to time as well. You are _all_ brothers in blue. You _all_ protect one another and watch each other's…" She paused momentarily, testing out the expression she had heard, "…sixes. You let the others see you as invincible, but you shouldn't. Having to best them all, be the bravest and smartest and the best, never looking like you need them… All of that makes them complacent about you, as if they don't have to work as hard to look after you as you do to look after them."

"Twice as hard, twice as good, half the pay." Jane looked down at their hands. "You don't have to approve or even completely understand. I don't think you ever will, honestly. I'm just telling you why." She pulled away, standing. "You're about the only person in my life that gets to see that other side. Don't make me regret that, okay?" Though the words were harsh, the detective's voice was soft and pleading. "I have to go. If you're still up for a movie after work tonight, my door's open." With that, she turned to leave.

"Jane?" Maura beckoned, slipping back to the floor and catching her friend by the hand. "I'll be there. A-and I won't say anything else about your muliebrity." At the uncomprehending look, she offered the more well known synonym, ducking her head almost bashfully. "Your womanly qualities. Your femininity. Thank you for entrusting it to me."

"Yeah, sure," Jane cleared her throat, the air suddenly uncomfortable. "I'll…uh… I'll see you tonight."


	2. Chapter 2

The living room was spotless, the kitchen clean, the bathroom so sanitary you could practically eat off of the floor, and Jane's bedroom looked like something out of "Better Homes." The entire apartment was softly light by a few candles placed around the living room and one lamp that sat on the uncluttered side table by the couch. As for the occupant of the apartment, she and her recently groomed dog were curled on the couch.

Jane, in a terry cloth robe with the matching white slippers on the ground, sat with her legs curled to the side with Jo Friday curled into a little ball in the bend of her knees. A bottle of red wine and two glasses sat neatly beside a tray of assorted snacks ranging from grapes and cheese to brownie bites. Despite how the coffee table was laid out, Jane was quietly reading a book as she waited for Maura to arrive.

The knock came, and with it, a bolt of lightning that made electricity flicker throughout the neighborhood, then a jingle as Maura used her spare key – the knock was just for the sake of politeness. Three seconds later there followed a rumbling roll as heavenly tympani reminded all of Boston why so many cultures invented thunder gods. When the door opened, Maura stood there with an umbrella that had done its job only on her upper body; the lower half of her was soaked. "Don't get up. You look comfortable. What are you reading?" She bustled inside and set down the umbrella and too-short rain coat, apologizing for the dribbles as she hung the umbrella from the doorknob and her coat from the coat hook. Next came her galoshes, along with the little smug smile that advertised how pleased she was at having thought to wear them instead of the 'adorable little Louboutins' she had worn to work that morning.

"_Jane Eyre__._ Use the umbrella holder by the door. Last thing I need is for Jo to find a puddle in the house and get ideas." Jane raised an eyebrow but didn't bother to look in Maura's direction. "You always do that, hang wet umbrellas from the door. I've never figured that out. You can borrow whatever you need. My place is your place." With that remark, she flipped the page.

Obligingly, Maura moved her umbrella before it had shed too much water. _"__Jane Eyre__?_ Perfect reading for a stormy night like this one. Um," she paused to look down at herself, splashes of mud staining her legs almost all the way up to her dress, bare feet squishing on the floor, just as they had in her galoshes when the rain trickled down her legs and pooled in the rubbery feet. "I don't want to delay your movie if you wanted to watch it right away, but I'd really love to get a shower. I took one before I came, but I feel like I need another one."

"Go for it. I'm not in any hurry," she glanced over to the muddied doctor. "Holy crap, Maura, you look like you've been out making mud pies." The laugh that followed seemed to echo in the room. "Go. Shower. Jo and I'll just stay here and be clean, away from your mud pies."

Maura scurried off towards the bedroom, where she was fairly certain she still had a set of pajamas and something she could wear the following day. Within twenty minutes, she was fresh, clean, pink-skinned from the heat, and decked out in a silky, peach colored robe. Her hair was even washed and towel-dried. "Thank you. I feel so much more human." It was a joke, or so said the very tiny smirk at the corner of her mouth, a reference to repeated mentions of her 'true' nature as a cybernetic organism. "I'm going to get a glass of water. Want me to refill your wine glass? No, stay put. You still look really comfy and cute."

"Hey!" The book promptly closed. "Did you just call me cute? You know my rule on the four letter word, Maur."

Maura's eyes widened as she sensed trouble in the offing. "Uh, nnn-n-yes? I didn't mean in the sense of… um… Well, it's just that you were curled up small, sort of like a house cat. I mean, a _panther_. A big, fierce, dangerous panther. Panthers look sort of like gigantic, um, extremely _powerful_ house cats, which _are_ cute, and… Um… Well, you do have certain qualities that…" She winced. Backtracking was not the pathologist's strong suit. "Wow, is that a real bayberry candle?"

Jane's eyes narrowed as she watched her friend squirm. "So… you're saying I'm a house cat that thinks it's a panther?" The smile tugging at the corners of her mouth and the twinkle in her eyes destroyed all hope of anger that played in the detective's voice. Maura started to protest, until she turned around and spotted signs of humor, causing her to laugh sheepishly in return. "If you were anyone else," Jane chuckled, "I'd say you'd never seen a panther as anything like a house cat, but I never know with you." Shaking her head, she placed the book on the side table by the lamp. "I thought we'd go with _Teacher's Pet__._ It's got Doris Day and Clark Gable in it. You up for that? If not, they're replaying the Sox game."

"The game is fine," Maura replied as she brought her own water glass and the bottle to refill Jane's wine glass. "I don't know that I'm capable of concentrating on a movie with an actual plot tonight. Though I'll try, if you think that watching the game would be too stimulating for the mood you're in right now. You really do look very relaxed, and I know how little relaxation you get. I'm open to possibilities."

With a grunt, Jane flipped on the TV. She made a face and turned it off. "I'm not in the mood. What about something else instead? I've got that stuff to bake the cupcakes for Frost's birthday in a few days if you want to give that a try, or maybe we can do something else? I don't really want to leave. It's raining cats and dogs out there. What about a board game? I have Scrabble around here… no, wait. You'd kick my ass. What about … no, you'd get a Monopoly in, like, three rounds. Okay, how about… no, Scattergories isn't any better than Scrabble. Wait a minute, let me think about this." She ran a hand through her hair. "Man, having a best friend who is a genius? Yeah, not so great for finding games that put you on an equal playing field." She frowned, forehead creasing in concentration. "Oh, I know, how about we… no, card games aren't any better. I've seen you run percentages in your head. At this point, I kind of want to say 'screw it' and do my nails." She chuckled.

"Okay," Maura replied easily at every suggestion, even the ones that Jane negated, laughing as finally she settled on just one. "Are you sure, though? I mean, if you show up for work with painted nails, won't someone at the precinct realize that you're equipped with ovaries? I wouldn't want anyone insulting your manhood." She winked coyly, quickly hustling back into the bathroom to fetch the nail kit she had noticed a few times behind the first aid kit, as well as to avoid something being thrown at her. Jane had good aim.

"Wow, Jane," she exclaimed, voice echoing against the tiled surfaces in the room, "I love these colors." Moments later, she padded back towards the couch, kit in one hand, four bottles of polish in the other.

"That's why I do pedicures and not manicures, smart ass." With a roll of her eyes, Jane held out her hands for the nail color. "Which ones did you pick out? I have about thirty stuffed back there."

Maura held up four different colors: a rich wine red, a shimmery raspberry-cranberry that hovered on the edge where red met pink, a bottle of opaque white, and a bottle of opalescent, translucent pink. "I thought French tips would work better for hands. Mine, that is. I know you don't want to do your fingernails. I spent today thinking about your reasons why, and I think they're reasons I can support even if I don't fully understand the pressures you face. Not like another cop would understand."

"Thank you for that. It's not exactly what I'd hoped to hear, but I'll take it." Dark brown eyes ran over the colors. "Hmm... maybe I should paint my fingernails. I mean," with a deep-set frown, she shook her head as she spoke aloud the thoughts running through her mind. "No, better not. I'd never hear the end of it. I barely hear the end of it when I wear lipstick. Still," she placed the bottles on the coffee table by the glasses and sat back holding the wine colored tint Maura had brought out. With a thoughtful look, she held it up, "I'd probably do it anyway if I had a reason to, someone that I knew would actually appreciate the effort. If I had a gir-," her eyes shot up as her mouth clamped shut. "A good reason." The last sentence was weak, clearly a cover. "So... what do you think for my toes?" She gave the little bottle in her hand a shake.

Maura's head tipped just barely to one side, held for a moment as she studied Jane's face, and her bouncy ponytail slipped down and forward over one shoulder. Whatever she saw there did not draw her to comment, however. She simply bent forward to look at Jane's toes. "The nails are a good length, as long as they don't bother you. A few calluses here and there, but I think you need those because those are the places where your shoes rub. Also, you have pretty feet. Here," she held out her left hand for the polish. "Let me do you, and then you can do me while your toes are drying. Then we can revisit the idea of doing your hands, too. I'd kind of like to see that."

"Yeah, sure. Sounds good. Are we going to do facials after this? Maybe each other's hair?" Jane let out a snort as she handed the bottle over.

"Maybe, and then we'll make cookies just to eat the raw batter, play Spin the Bottle, prank call strangers using bad German accents, break into the liquor cabinet, and… What else happens at sleepovers?" Gesturing towards the couch arm, Maura then adjusted her seated posture, patting her knee to indicate the place for Jane to put her first foot. "Just get comfortable." So saying, she unscrewed the bottle and leaned in to start on the pinkie toe, working from the far side of the foot to the nearest. There would be no polish on her sleeves and no smeared nails at _this_ slumber party.

* * *

"I have no idea, honestly. Most of my sleepovers involved talk about the game or homework." Jane scrunched her nose. "Really, not very exciting. Though," she tilted her head to the side, careful not to disturb Maura's work, "we did play spin the bottle once. That ended... oddly." She rolled her eyes. "Tiffany Gurken was never the same after that."

Maura chuckled knowingly. "Rocked her world, did you?" she queried as she finished the fifth and fourth toes and leaned in to blow and dry them somewhat before continuing on to the third and second, then re-dipped the brush to start on the big toe.

"I didn't rock anyone's world, no," Jane rolled her eyes. "We managed to get some boys in one night when Tiffany's mom and step-dad were asleep, and that's when we decided spin-the-bottle would be a good idea. She spun it. It landed on me. Everyone tried not to have a fit at the idea of the super tomboy in the group kissing the super feminine girl in the group, and Tiffany tried not to puke. I gave it all of 30 seconds before I said, 'Spin it again. I'm not kissing her. She kissed my brother, Tommy, three days ago, and I don't want his nasty germs anywhere near me'."

She laughed out loud. "At the time, Tommy had a bad rap. Well, he still does, but… anyway… they all freaked out, and my little panicked comment landed her with a 'bad girl' reputation for about two weeks until Tommy flat out told a bunch of people that he wouldn't touch Tiffany with a 10 foot pole and leather gloves. After that, she sort of," the detective shrugged, looking for the right words, "_morphed_ into this weird hyper version of herself for about a year. Then she completely disappeared. Her mom told us she went to live with her dad somewhere in California. She broke all ties with us." Jane frowned, remembering. "You know, we tried so hard to get her to talk to us. After six months, we gave up. She just wouldn't accept an apology, and she wouldn't talk to us. All she did was jump from boy to boy until she left for California." She shook her head, regret clear on her features. "I didn't see her again until last year."

Maura looked up from her friend's first set of perfectly painted toenails, sitting back for a moment. "Oh, Jane. I'm so sorry. But you have to know that that wasn't your fault. You may have provided an initial impetus, but what she did with that was Tiffany's responsibility. A reputation is one thing, but having it actually be the truth is another. I sort of acquired a bad name for a couple of months in school too, but it didn't turn me into anything I wasn't already. Whatever happened to Tiffany, you didn't cause it." She frowned for a moment, concerned, but wanting to let it go. "Here, give me your other foot," she added, subdued.

Obligingly, Jane switched feet, careful of the wet paint. "I realize that now. Actually, when I saw her last year, it all sort of fell into place about what happened." The detective shrugged. "At least she's happy now."

"Is she okay?" Maura asked as she dipped the brush back into the bottle and this time, started on Jane's right big toe. "Did she sort out what was giving her such conflict?"

"I guess so. I ran into her at the coffee shop down by your place. She and her wife seem pretty happy." Lifting her left foot up, Jane admired Maura's handiwork. "You know, I have a dress and shoes this color?"

Seeming unsurprised to hear of the development in Tiffany's life, Maura smiled as she made quick, neat work of painting the other four nails on Jane's right foot, then sat back and screwed the brush/handle back on the bottle. "Obviously, you need to wear it, but not with the polish. The polish should be worn when it stands out and makes a statement. Wear it with mostly black, or a complementary color instead." She set down the bottle, reached to pick up the bottle of opaque white she'd picked for herself to hand it to Jane, but then changed her mind and started shaking it herself. "So, when you said you gave it thirty seconds, did you mean thirty seconds of kissing, or thirty seconds of thinking about it and then chickening down?"

Annoyance in her tone, Jane shot back, "Chickening out or backing down, not chickening down, and you know I don't do either. Besides, I already answered that question. I said I gave it thirty seconds of everyone in the group besides us making smart-alecky remarks before I said _wasn't_ going to do it. I never kissed _that_ girl." She leaned over to take the bottle from Maura's hand. "I thought I was doing you?"

Snatching the bottle back out of Jane's reach, Maura said with mock severity, "You'll do me when I'm good and ready." One brow lifted, her eyes flashed with… something, and then she broke into laughter. "I mean, the… The white tips of a French manicure or pedicure are hard to get right, and you know I'm a picky person. I'll do the white, and you can do the sheer pink overlay, okay? Promise." Continuing to shake the bottle for a few more seconds, she added, "I'm sorry, though."

"For what?" Long, lanky legs stretched out to prop lovely wine tipped feet on the coffee table. "For Tiffany? That was a lifetime ago. Besides, we all have stuff that's happened. The past is the past," she leaned a little closer to her friend and lowered her voice as if sharing something confidential, "unless you killed someone. In which case, I'll have to take you down and cuff you." Jane smirked, eyes sparkling with mischief as she leaned back. "So," the word had a ring of danger to it, "you want to tell me about _your_ past," she gave Maura a side glance, "bad girl?"

As she shook out the bottle, Maura pondered where to begin. "I almost never got invited to parties at school; at least not parties where they played those… interpersonal games. Not until someone took pity on me. I was the only senior girl who still couldn't drink alcohol in public. In _France._ Four years younger and smaller than everyone else – pity was the only possible way I could have been invited. I think they assumed I would just fall asleep sucking my thumb or something before the really good games got started." She lifted the bottle to check, decided the polish within was appropriately blended, and unscrewed the handle to pull out the brush. "That may be why I felt so strongly about staying awake and seeing everything through. I think the older girls, my classmates, thought I'd back out if the bottle ever landed on me."

Jane imagined a class full of older, bigger, more confident girls, surrounding the tiny genius that she knew her best friend had been. Heard them trying to be nice by inviting her to be a part of their party, only to dismiss her as being unable to truly take part with them, then all but dare her to try anyway just by telling her she couldn't. That must have lit a fire under her, Jane reflected. Even though she was stronger about her ethics and morals than anyone the detective had ever met, would a fourteen year old Maura have had the same fortitude? Probably, if there were ethics involved…

But what if it was simply a matter of resisting or not resisting something that seemed interesting? The two of them were a lot alike that way. Where Maura had been the youngest of her peers, Jane had often been the only girl among an otherwise male crowd. Now, as an adult, she was wise enough to withstand peer pressure to do things she knew weren't in her best interest, but as a kid, she had gotten herself in mess after mess, simply trying to prove she could keep up with the boys. "So you just kept going to avoid wimping out? Yeah. Been there."

"Y-y-y…No," replied the other woman, not meeting Jane's eyes. "I _started_ playing the games with them so that I wouldn't be thought of as too young, or too weak, or too much of a wet blanket. I kept going because I found that I enjoyed it." Maura uncapped her bottle of opaque white polish and started in with her French pedicure, drawing a very thin line at the edge of each toenail. It didn't take long, though when she switched feet, she did have to stop for a moment, stand, turn her back to Jane, and refasten her peach robe. Before resuming the French tipping with her right foot propped on the coffee table, she started to smile. "Hence, the nicknames. I'll preface this by saying that the names I got weren't associated with academics or my standing with the teachers."

Jane rolled her eyes. "You're so predictable sometimes. I'm not doing this song and dance thing we normally do, so I'm just going to ask the questions. What were you called? How did you get the reputation? Was it actually well-earned and/or deserved? Are you still that good?" The last question was said with a wink and a smile.

There was that little thing Maura did sometimes when she was embarrassed but still enjoying herself, a coy smile, a look from the corner of her eye, a certain tilt of the shoulders. "No song and dance. I'm just telling this in my own way, so let me tell it." She finished the white half-moon at the tip of every toenail, and took a moment to stand. "Okay, the sheer pink goes over the whole nail. Here's the bottle. Just one coat, so it doesn't make the white part look stained." She moved very carefully, keeping her toes spread and off the carpet as she turned, sat back down, and lifted her outside foot towards Jane's knee.

"Anyway," continued Maura as she got settled, drawing her robe more closely around herself again, "I was called _Les Lèvres,_ which means The Lips. And yes, I deserved it. It started at my first game of Spin The Bottle in my last year at school. After that, I got invited to every party that my classmates threw."

"So, Maura Isles is a good kisser, huh?" The lightness in the detective's voice was accompanied by a smirk and a suggestive wiggle of Jane's eyebrows. "Why am I not surprised?" She carefully painted each nail, eyes steadfast on the task as she continued to needle her friend. "Did you have a specialty?"

Blushing prettily, Maura picked up the bottle of white nail polish and started putting white edges at the tips of her fingernails as well, so they would have a long chance to dry before getting their final coat. "Not really a specialty, _per se_. I just… I enjoyed it, and I focused on the person I was kissing, instead of trying to make it look good. A small but vocal minority didn't like that. They thought it was fine if it was just for a joke, to pass the time, or to make each other laugh, or to practice for… other people. I suppose that got them through the night. I didn't really understand that I wasn't supposed to acknowledge enjoying the kissing for its own sake, even when there wasn't a game in progress. Some of my more judgmental classmates called me _une gouine sale et dégoûtant."_

"And that would mean?" Jane's voice was light, less annoyed and more resigned to having to ask for a translation.

"A dirty, disgusting dyke," Maura replied matter-of-factly, still mostly absorbed in applying white tips to the nails of her left hand. Then she switched to her right, letting her non-dominant left hand hold the brush. This required a bit more concentration, but through long years of practice it _was_ possible. "I didn't mind much, because it wasn't true. There's nothing dirty or disgusting about it. That was just their own religious or cultural stance talking, and that had little to do with me. Also, I wasn't technically a lesbian. I was just a kid, figuring things out. Even at the time, I knew that definitions and categories would have to come later, if at all. It hurt that they called me names, but the words themselves weren't the insult to me that they were meant to be."

Jane was quiet for a very long moment, finishing up the application of the light coat of pink over Maura's white tips. When both feet were done, she placed the bottle back down on the table and cleared her throat a few times before finally coming back with something to say, "You have an old soul, Maura." A sad smile on her face, the long-legged brunette stood up in a slow but graceful motion to head for her bedroom. Answering one of the unspoken questions, she called out over her shoulder, "I'll be right back. I'm going to go hang up this robe. I'm getting hot."

"You're not wrong," Maura mumbled to herself once Jane was out of the room.


	3. Chapter 3

In Jane's absence, Maura could do nothing but sit and wait for her nails to dry, and so she was in the same position, fingers and toes spread apart and away from all furniture, when the lanky brunette returned.

Dressed in a pair of black shorts that just missed the mid-thigh mark by a few centimeters and a matching tank, Jane looked for all the world like she was modeling for a high end catalog as she strode back into the living room. The satin material shimmered lightly in the glow of the lamp as it hugged her frame and shifted as she moved. Her hair, which she had let dry naturally, fell in loose curls around her face and down her back, and, just as Maura had pointed out would happen, her red toenails seemed to pop, drawing the eye down her angular frame to her painted nails.

She gave her friend an apologetic look before sitting back down on the couch. "Sorry. I love that robe, but, you know," she shrugged. "I have one that matches this set somewhere, but I can't find it." Her eyes widened for a second as something struck her. "Hey, is it at your place?"

Maura looked up from blowing on her fingernails and all but froze, moving only her eyebrows. Then normal functioning resumed, quickly enough that the pause might even have been missed. "It might be. Are you chilly? You should put something on before doing your fingernails, if you're going to do them. Getting your hands through the sleeves while the nails are wet would be problematic at best."

"No, I'm good. I took off the robe because I was hot, remember?"

Maura blinked owlishly for a moment. "Right."

"Besides, I haven't really decided on my fingernails." Jane looked down at her hands. "I know I'll get crap for it if I paint them with anything but a clear coat. Plus, people tend to notice my hands more, which isn't a big deal, but I hate people getting that weird uncomfortable look when they notice the scars." She shook her head, clearly annoyed. "I don't know why. It's not like they're on _their_ hands. Whatever. People are weird. Anyway, it's not like I have a reason to paint them some pretty color anyway." With a thoughtful look, she turned to face the woman next to her. "Hey, are you okay? You seem … off suddenly."

Maura's mouth opened as if she was about to speak, shut again, opened again. "Sorry. I guess my attention was elsewhere. You know, it's Friday. If you want, I'll paint your nails tonight and you can take the polish off on Sunday night. You're not on call this weekend, so you only have yourself to please."

"Please myself, huh? Meh, not really a good enough reason." She looked back up to Maura. "Wait, you said you wanted to see them painted, didn't you? Did you have a color in mind?"

Maura reached over to pick up the bottle she'd used on Jane's toenails. "Matching is usually best, and this color looks amazing with your skin. Especially contrasted with that black." She had recovered her equanimity once the surprise of the unaccustomed look wore off. "Of course, if you'd be _too_ uncomfortable with it, you shouldn't do it. Personally, I like to do things once in a while that aren't entirely comfortable for me. Actually, that's how I learned to ride horses as a child, and later... Actually, I wanted to ask you about that. Do you like motorcycles?"

"They're neat to look at, but I've never ridden one, why?" Jane was still considering her fingernails.

"Do you remember on Tuesday, I mentioned a potential surprise that I wanted to try to do with you this weekend if possible?" Maura kept going in the unique form of conversational foreplay that she did, in which everything had some sort of setup. "The surprise came through. I got an email just before I left work today, and what I want is available."

She held out a hand, an offer rather than a command, indicating she was ready to perform painting duties if Jane wanted her fingernails varnished. "There's a place a few miles outside Boston that rents Indian motorcycles. They're a classic icon – the original American brand, in fact. Beautiful bikes. There's a Roadmaster with our name on it, waiting for us in the morning, if you're interested. It's a two-seater with back support, so you wouldn't have to hang onto me like a baby chimpanzee. You could just lean back and enjoy the wind." A twinkle of mischief entered her eye as she said coquettishly, "I'll even let you tell the guys at work that you did the driving."

Jane placed her left hand in Maura's. "And miss the chance to tell people I was your old lady this weekend? No way. The look on Frankie's face is going to be priceless." She chuckled. "I've always wanted to ride a motorcycle, but I just never knew anyone who had a bike. I have a couple of things stashed in my closet to wear just in case I found someone." The smile broadened across her face. "So, when you ride, do you wear the 4 inch spikes or the platforms? Or are you more… fellagirly about it?"

Maura gave the fingers a gentle squeeze as she laughed, neither accepting nor declining the terminology. "I believe in wearing the proper attire for any activity, including sport. I wear shoes or boots with a sturdy, low heel, and so should you." Once the bottle was shaken a bit, she cracked it again and began decorating Jane's fingernails.

Maura continued as she finished the first hand with a last delicate brush stroke and a light blow across the surfaces. "I also believe in using the proper terminology. A biker's old lady typically has her own motorcycle, in my admittedly imperfect understanding. Since you don't have a bike of your own, I believe you would technically be my bitch." She gave her shoulders a happy little shake; it reminded Jane for a moment of Jo Friday's full-body shivers of delight. "Interested?"

An amused snort escaped before Jane could stop it. "I think there are a lot of people who would argue I already am." She continued to chuckle. "Okay, fine, I'll be your bitch, but that makes you my old man. Means I get to wear your colors, and you get to approve my outfits." She raised an eyebrow. "What are your colors? Blush and bashful?"

Laughing right along as she painted the nails on Jane's other hand, Maura suddenly paused both as she realized, with abrupt seriousness, "You know, I never considered that. Can we just forego the uniform this once? If you like riding, then we'll decide next time. It was hard enough finding a jacket and helmet that I like. Besides, you look good in everything. Even off-the-rack things flatter you. I mean, if I had a body like yours, I'd…" her gesture and her eyes swept over Jane's abbreviated nightwear. Another pause went by before Maura bent to finish her polishing duty. She smiled, mentally drifting as the colored varnish covered those short, but surprisingly well groomed nails.

"Maura?" Jane's voice was both curious and cautious at the same time. "Hey, Maura," she called again, trying to get her friend's attention, _"Maura._ You'd what?" Dark brown eyes narrowed and the familiar detective mask quickly came and left Jane's face. "Maur, what were you distracted by earlier when I walked back in from ditching my robe?"

A second or two later, Maura lifted her face from Jane's completely polished fingernails and sat back, capping the bottle with a bland, pleasant expression that bore undertraces of guilt. "I was impressed. I haven't seen that set of night clothes before, and I like them. They look wonderful on you," she replied, having little choice but to tell the truth, and picked up the bottle of sheer pink to do her own nails, since Jane wouldn't be able to do them for Maura, at least until her own dried. "Also, envy."

"Thanks," Jane answered offhandedly, "Envy of what?"

"Of whom," Maura corrected absently as she bent again to the task of coating her nails with sheer, shimmering pink. "I envy you. Your height, your striking figure, your ability to tan easily, the way you even look good in off-the-rack clothes without any further tailoring. I'm happy with myself for the most part, but once in a while I sort of wish I had what you have, what my mother has. The ability to elevate clothes by wearing them, instead of needing them to elevate me."

"Are you kidding me?" Jane was flabbergasted. "You have an amazing body. Seriously, your clothes don't do anything but make you look _better._ I've seen you in stuff straight off the rack– my stuff, but still – and you look amazing even in my cotton-polyester T-shirts. I can't believe you'd ever think you need clothes to make you look good. Trust me, you don't." Jane was clearly on a roll. "All that tailoring and crap you do? You don't need it. I, on the other hand, have the body of a twelve year old boy. If it wasn't for pushup bras and well placed collar lines, I'd look like a plank." She shook her head, unable to absorb the notion that her runway-ready friend wasn't thrilled to be living within her own skin. "I can't believe you don't spend half your time staring into the mirror."

Maura blushed, not entirely comfortable, yet pleased. She made swift work of her right hand, again, then switched to her left so that her dexterous, dominant hand could do the harder work of painting the other while it was itself impaired by wet polish. "Anyway, you asked what I envied, and that's most of it."

"What's the rest?"

Maura's eyes widened in understated alarm, accompanied by dramatically lifted eyebrows. "I… Oh," she responded weakly, barely remembering to polish her remaining nails. Jane _would_ have to notice that she'd left something out. It took her another little while, during which she actually completed her manicure, to fashion a response. "I might have spared a passing thought towards your past lovers."

Jane blinked rapidly a few times. "My past lovers? I… what about them?"

Maura fell back on blunt truth. "They were lucky."

* * *

The dropped jaw may have been an indication of Jane's surprise, but it was the wide eyes and incoherent sounds that issued from her mouth that really gave away her shock. After babbling for a moment, she stood up and walked stiffly to the kitchen, carefully poured and drank a glass of water, and then stiffly walked back to reclaim her spot on the sofa.

She visibly gave herself a shake before responding in a much more coherent manner but much softer tone, "So were yours." Glancing at her fingernails to make sure they were still neatly polished, she pushed on, not letting Maura respond. "I was thinking your colors should be teal and something else. Maybe black? You always look good in teal." She kept going as if talking would help her fix whatever leak she may have incidentally just sprung. "I'm sure you can find some specialty shop somewhere that will color leather that shade of blue-green because, let's face it, if you're going to ride, you're going to have to wear leather, right?"

"Not necessarily," Maura replied, her momentary awkwardness fading slightly in light of Jane's much greater awkwardness. That was an intriguing line of thought, intriguing enough to distract her from her own social stumbling and subsequent embarrassment. She wondered, briefly, just how many girls Jane _had_ kissed, if not Tiffany Gurken. How many, and how recently. "Denim will be fine on a warm day such as tomorrow is supposed to be, now that the humidity has finally broken. If I do need it, I have some black riding leathers, but I'd rather wear the same thing you do, so I don't forget that you'll be chilly. But I do like teal. Not that it matters. Motorcycles are just a hobby for me, not a lifestyle. I think people will forgive me if my bitch and I don't color-coordinate." She grinned as she began to adjust her sitting position a little, wanting to be more comfortable, but stopped quickly as she noticed, "I can't move."

"What do you mean you can't move?"

Maura held up her wet-nailed hands, gestured towards her still spread toes, and said, "I'm sort of buried in your couch. I need my hands and feet for leverage in order to move, or at least a little help, but your nails are probably also still a bit too fresh to try to assist. I'm stuck." She laughed. "It doesn't matter, really. I'm not about to cramp up. It just means I'll be sitting like this for another hour or so before I can really do anything."

Jane pursed her lips in thought. "You're going to be like that for another hour? And you can't move?" She bounded up from the couch. "Awesome." In a flash, she was gone and back again with her cellphone. "Maur, smile," she snapped a picture. "That is totally your new pic for my phone."

Maura gasped in shock, though she laughed, spoiling the notion that she was taking offense. "Jane, no! No fair! I'm not decently dressed, and, a-and my hair must look terrible!" In point of fact, it had dried to the point at which it looked curly, sun-streaked, kind of adorable while she was laughing; but before she started smiling, there was a whole different look that she had almost certainly not intended, and that was the one now immortalized on Jane's phone.

With something suspiciously like a cackle, Jane started programming her phone. "I have leather pants and a leather vest," she commented as she fiddled with her phone, "and a teal shirt that would work really well under the vest. I've also got a pair of riding boots. Tommy's last girlfriend worked at a motorcycle shop, so I picked up a few things."

Maura went silent, refusing to comment, though she did take mental note that Jane had considerately suggested riding in colors that she owned, as well as that Maura owned, and that she had actual riding gear. Her lips pursed, however. She would not be distracted from the perfidious woman's sneaky act of illicit photography.

Jane cursed under her breath. "Okay, phone, we're agreeing to disagree. We are using _this_ picture of Maura, now deal." She glanced from her phone to her friend. "My phone wants to use that picture of you in that dress with the red top and the black bottom. He's not winning this fight, though." She gave her phone a tap on the screen. "Not happening, buddy. I like this picture better." Her eyes went back to the little screen.

Normally it would have been beneath Maura to suggest that an inanimate object had thoughts or feelings, but at the moment she felt fairly strongly about the image on Jane's phone. "You see, it doesn't want the whole world to see that whenever I call you. What if your phone is sitting out on your desk? Do you really want Barry or Vince to see _this?"_ she gestured at her state of relative dishabille. "Or Cavanaugh?" Inspiration struck. "Or Crowe?"

"Crowe can bite me. He can just be jealous that I get to see you like this and he doesn't," Jane snapped back, still distracted by her phone. "Besides, you know my phone is normally on my belt or in my hand. If anyone's staring at my belt, they'd better have a damned good reason." She narrowed her eyes, fingers running across her keypad. "Ha! Kiss it, phone."

She looked up with a triumphant smile as she turned her screen around so Maura could see it. "See that? That is how I see you most of the time, and you look _amazing_. Why you insist on doing all that other stuff to yourself, I don't know because you don't need it. From here on out, _this_ is your pic for my phone unless you can come up with a better one, and I don't mean something posed where you're all," she made vague hand motions up and down her body, "runway model perfect." She nodded to herself as she set the phone, screen still brightly lit with Maura's picture, in Maura's lap so she could see it.

During Jane's speech, Maura steadfastly looked away, refusing to see the phone. When it landed right in her lap, however, she did look at it. Stared, really, until the screen went black. "That's," she began, but then couldn't finish. Gingerly she reached down to touch the button to turn it back on, careful of her still soft nail polish, and again she waited out the two minutes until the lit rectangle darkened once more. She took a long moment to breathe, then looked away again, mentally pleading for a distraction from her own image and what she had just learned from it.

"Anyway," Jane plopped back down on the couch, "Did you want me to wear that outfit or not? Tommy's ex said I shouldn't wear anything under the vest, but… whatever… what do you want me to do, _old man?"_

Perfect distraction. Maura was well versed at looking and acting like she wasn't invested in someone else's appearance at all. Better to think about Jane wearing a leather vest with nothing under it, than herself looking disturbingly acceptable without any makeup, hair half-damp, and in just a robe. "Wear it next time," she said, suddenly able to look up, to look her friend in the eye again. "But not tomorrow. Tomorrow I want you in black. Don't let anything compete with these gorgeous nails, except for your gorgeous… face."

"My gorgeous body, you mean?" An eyebrow rose, expression half amused and half something else.

Maura answered it with a nearly identical expression. "That, too."

"Yeah, I can do black. That's practically my entire wardrobe anyway." Jane's expression became pensive for a moment as if she were replaying something in her mind's eye. With a quick flick of her hand, she grabbed her phone and hit the button to light the screen up again. She carefully scooted next to Maura until she was right up against her to keep the smaller woman from moving. Then, she held the phone up for both women to see. "You see that woman?" Again the picture she'd just snapped of Maura was on display. "Her body is pretty gorgeous, too. I really have a hard time understanding why she thinks it needs any help." She looked from the phone to her friend. "Can you?"

Maura's body sank into Jane's, a trick of the couch's poor seat suspension combined with her own comfort with her best friend, even as she pretended to protest. "You're kind of in my space right now," she mentioned, laying her cheek on Jane's shoulder and pulling her hand away, not wanting to distort the smoothness of her nails. She took a long moment to look at the phone again, and finally said, "No. Yes… But no. My tailor earns her keep, taking larger outfits in at the waist and hips in order to accommodate my chest. But I don't find myself unappealing anymore. I'd appreciate the convenience of looking more like you, and I find your body type more desirable than mine, but I don't really need to desire myself, do I? Besides, not realizing the strength of my own assets kept me out of… higher levels of trouble as a teenager. I'm okay now. Partly – lately, anyway – thanks to you."

Jane's surprise met with Maura's smile and an explanation. "Because if someone as beautiful as my old lady tells me that I'm beautiful, too, I have to believe her. If I didn't, she'd probably cuff me to a chair and _make_ me believe her." She paused then, soberly noting, "That wasn't a request."

"Good thing, too," Jane tossed her phone onto the coffee table. "I don't use cuffs until the fifth date, and we haven't even been on _one."_ She winked as she scooted back over to her side of the sofa. "Besides, I thought I was your bitch?"

"I don't like calling you a bitch."

Jane's laugh quieted as she realized she was just about to call the comment sweet. "Okay, alright. I'm guessing you're spending the night tonight because you know how much I hate it when you drive in this weather. So… details? What's the plan for tomorrow?"

"Yes," replied Maura, and with quiet enthusiasm started describing the day she had planned.


	4. Chapter 4

When Jane awoke, Maura was gone, but there was a note next to the coffee maker, which was already set up to brew a good strong pot.

_Old Lady,_

_I'm going home to get my riding gear. I'll be back by about 9:30 AM, but we don't have to leave at any specific time. The rain has stopped and it's supposed to be quite warm today. I suggest jeans, a short-sleeved top, and a jacket or thick sweater for warmth while riding. Save the leather for next time, O.L, unless it's the most comfortable thing you have._

_Your Old Man_

_PS – I walked Jo Friday and then took her to your mother's. She expects us both for gnocchi night._

At 9:28, Maura let herself back into Jane's apartment. She had kept her promise, for the most part, of avoiding the leathers of a true motorcycle aficionado. Instead, she had opted for a pair of dark boot-cut jeans that fit more loosely than usual, the sort that were sold in trendy shops as "boyfriend" jeans, along with a clingy black tank top, low-heeled but still feminine riding boots, and a black leather jacket that was not quite what a real, lifestyle biker would wear. Her honey-brown hair was swept into a careless ponytail, and she looked both cute and unpretentious. Any and all badass points that she might accrue today for having rented an Indian rather than the more widely known Harley or Kawasaki were utterly negated by the bright, simple, open smile. And, of course, the fresh French manicure.

"Jane?" she called, seeing that the note had been moved and the coffee made. "I'm here."

"Yeah," came the reply from the bathroom, "I'm ready."

Jane stepped out in a pair of dark blue jeans that hugged her legs but, despite the fit, were not binding. Over the top of the jeans were a pair of black leather knee-high riding boots much like one would expect to see at an equestrian event. Her shirt was a well-fitted V-neck with short sleeves. The main color was a dark grey but there was a black design that ran around one side, something almost tribal looking. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, which had a grey bandana with black accents tied around it. In her hand were a heavy leather jacket and a pair of aviator sunglasses. "This work, Old Man?" She did a 360 turn to allow Maura to see the entire outfit, including the patch on the back pocket of her jeans. "Well?"

Maura allowed herself an appreciative, silent _Ooh_ and a smile. "You look like the prettiest thing that will ever sit on the back of any bike I'm riding. Let's hit the road, Old Lady."

* * *

By ten o'clock, they had gotten to the motorcycle rental company, signed their rental contract, moved Maura's meticulously planned picnic lunch from the car trunk to the cycle's saddlebags, and had their helmets on. Maura touched the button on the side of hers to turn on the microphone. "Can you hear me? The button is right here… Oh, you found it. Good. Now, it'll be easier if you get on first, so you won't have to get your leg up so high to get it over the back of the seat. Need help?"

"Nope," Jane threw her leg over the seat and settled against the backrest, her long legs hugging the sides of the bike as she settled, one leg quickly kicking out to help steady herself. "Anything I need to know about how to do this? I'd rather not crash on my first ride or, you know, ever."

Naturally, there were things to learn. Maura could not ask Jane to do anything together unless someone learned something. "Very good. Okay, now just hold still." One yoga-flexible leg practically flew in a fan-kick overhead, landing on the other side of the bike before Jane could even react. She settled on, checking the placement of mirrors while explaining, "It's quite safe with just the back support, if you don't want to hang on, but it's a little bit safer if you do. You'll hold me here," she patted both hips, "or here," she patted her waist, "but never around the shoulders or neck. You can hang on tight with your whole arms, or just your hands. I brought you some gloves in case your hands get cold. They're in my pockets, if you want to grab them now." She would never draw attention to Jane's scars overtly, but her hands would probably ache if the lanky woman did not protect her hands from the wind chill.

She stood the bike up and stretched her legs out, planting each foot flat on the ground for a moment before nudging the kickstand back. "Can you find your foot rests? Get on those. Now, whenever I lean, you lean the same way. It's just like a horse or a bicycle, but heavier and faster, and with an internal combustion engine." She paused, one hand on the key, and asked as a grin gave her voice a pleasant lift, "Are you ready?"

"No," Jane's hands slide down to reach into Maura's pockets and pull the gloves out, which she quickly pulled on. "I want you to know that I'm not scared, but if I was – which I'm not – but _if_ I was, I might warn you that I squeal when things scare me too badly, which won't happen, because I'm not scared." Gloved covered hands settled on Maura's hips. "Okay, let's do this."

Maura let her other hand drop from the handlebars to cover Jane's for a moment. "I promise not to do anything fancy. If you get scared, just remember I've got you, and hold on tighter. I'll try not to scare you, Jane." With that, she cranked the key and set the engine to life with an aggressively loud purr. The motor roared to activity, thrumming beneath them. "Still okay?" she asked, voice rising only a little, thanks to the noise-canceling helmet sound system.

"I'm great," came the somewhat squeaky reply as Jane's hands snaked around Maura's waist.

"Okay. Here we go." True to her word, Maura let the bike roll forward smoothly, slowly, sedately. The creakiest, most delicate senior citizen in the world would have had no complaints, let alone the newest 'old lady' in their two-girl biker club. She drove to the end of the lot and paused at the stop sign that identified the demarcation between cycle lot and road. "How are you doing so far?" she asked, her voice louder, but gentle. "I don't want to scare you by taking my hand off the handles, but just pretend I'm patting your arm, okay?"

"Like I said, I'm good. I'm totally awesome. I've got this." Jane sounded like she was repeating a self-made mantra even as her arms hugged Maura's waist a bit tighter. "Let's do this already."

Maura let the bike roll forward again, heading down the road, not the direction in which they'd come, but a quieter, greener stretch. It was still paved, but as the minutes and miles flew by beneath them, they saw fewer and fewer signs of human civilization.

Forty minutes later, or so, Maura pulled off the highway and onto a much quieter street. From there, they snuck down an unpaved dirt road, which gave way to a clearing. Maura parked the bike, cut the engine and pushed down the kickstand, though she did not let the bike rest on it at first. "How do you feel now?" she asked before removing her helmet and gloves and setting them on the gleaming gas tank. "Jane? You can let go if you want. We've stopped."

* * *

"If I let go," came the breathy reply, "I might fall off. I'm just going to hang on for a couple of minutes, okay?"

Maura simply shook out her hair and relaxed, unzipping the jacket but making no move to doff it since Jane clearly needed her to remain still for stability. She lay her hands over Jane's, still wrapped around her, for reassurance. After several minutes, during which both of them were getting a bit stifled for comfort due to the hot day and the lack of wind stealing their warmth, she suggested, "Do you want to take off your helmet so you can breathe more easily?"

"I... yes," came the now muffled response. Slowly, Jane pulled her hands away from Maura's waist and reached up to take her helmet off. "Just… will you help me off of here?"

Taking the helmet first, Maura set it down right by hers. "Of course. I'm going to get off first, so you have room to maneuver." She angled her hips to the left and slid off the bike slowly, not like the flashy way she had gotten on, now that she understood how nervous Jane was. Once freed, she turned around to slip her right arm around Jane's back and offer her left hand. "Use one hand to brace against the bike, and the other to take my hand. Shift until your weight is on your left leg, and then straighten that leg. Then swing your right leg forward, bend it, and lean on me. I'll pull you the rest of the way."

Jane followed directions and was mostly off when she lost her balance and took Maura down in the process of falling to the ground where she lay, mostly on top of the honey-haired woman, for a long moment. "I'd get up," she grunted, "but I'm a little afraid to move."

"Ow," Maura said with a laugh as she lay on the ground, seemingly unperturbed by the dirt that would have normally had her shrieking. "No, don't get up," she agreed as laughter stilled. "You're blocking the sun that would otherwise be damaging my corneas right now." The smaller woman took a brief pause. "Wow. I guess I should have warned you about one of the side effects of riding a motorcycle. It tends to vibrate one's muscles, tendons, and bones a little bit more than most people are normally used to, which results in… Never mind. It makes you weak in the knees."

"Thanks for the warning," Jane deadpanned as she let her head fall down, forehead resting against Maura's shoulder. "I'm going to try to roll off of you, okay? If I don't make it, tell my family I love them." Placing her still gloved hands on either side of her friend's head, she pushed up and rolled, unceremoniously, off of Maura. "I can't feel my ass, and my hands hurt," she moaned as she closed her eyes against the sun.

Maura chuckled as she flung up her arms to block the sun. "I can take care of your hands, once I set out lunch. Your thighs and your butt and all the rest will sort themselves out fairly soon."

"Good to know," Jane sighed. "You know, besides those two things, it's been pretty awesome. Your abs," she just barely opened one eye, turning her head to face the other woman, "are deceptively well defined, by the way. Your clothing does _not_ do them justice." She turned her head back, closing her eye.

"Thank you," said Maura as she offered Jane a hand to lift her torso from the ground. "Here, unfasten your jacket and sit up a minute," she instructed, and slipped the jacket off Jane's shoulders, letting it lie where it was to cushion her upper body against the ground. Her own, she put under her friend's head, her motions, gestures, and posture once again radiating femininity now that she was no longer on the motorcycle, no longer directly interacting with the large and heavy piece of machinery that served as a phallic symbol in movies and 'stud' calendars.

"So, food soon, right?" Jane gave another grunt as she let herself fall back on the ground.

Maura nodded as she straightened up to fuss around with the motorcycle's saddlebags. "Food and drinks, in fact." She pulled a miraculously cold beer bottle and a ginger ale out of the bag and opened them, using the steel middle-finger ring she'd been wearing beneath her gloves, followed by a pair of sandwiches she'd picked up at one of their favorite places on the way to the motorcycle dealership and rental agency. She plopped right down on the ground next to Jane, who had managed to right herself, and sat cross-legged.

Of course, she was still Maura, so she could not unwrap her sandwich until she had dug a pair of individually wrapped moist towelettes from her pocket and handed one to her best friend, then use the other to make her own hands practically clean enough for surgery. After a long, companionable silence for chewing and enjoying the day, she remarked, "Do you know what I never knew about you before just now?"

"What?" Jane asked around a mouth full of sandwich.

"I never knew that your hair wasn't brown," came the answer, and then Maura took a big bite of her sandwich. It wasn't until she had swallowed it, the last of that sandwich half, that she could wash it down with a little ginger ale and then explain. "After we fell down, I noticed that the sun was lighting you up from behind, and your hair was this weird, beautiful blend of dark orange and even darker purple, and streaks of nearly black." Briefly she pressed her dark amber bottle to a temple, then the side of her neck, then towards the cleft at the center of her tank top. "It reminded me of the sky just before night takes over, which is an odd thing to be thinking about when it's so bright out."

"Yeah," the word seemed to hang as Jane watched Maura cool herself off with her drink. She blinked, shaking her head as the other woman stopped moving the bottle around her cleavage line. "My hair's got some weird natural highlights in it," she finished her sandwich with one final bite. "Ma always said I should be happy that it was so unique. I always thought having purple hair was a little weird. You can see it better when the sun lightens it, which never happens anymore because, I mean, when do I have time to sunbathe?" She snorted. "Never."

"It's lovely," Maura said quietly.

Jane winced, her still gloved hands taking that moment to stop working properly which caused her drop her almost empty beer bottle in her lap. "Damn."

Quickly but casually, Maura set down her bottle and reached for Jane's hands. "Come here."With little more than a nonverbal by-your-leave, she stripped the glove from Jane's long, slender hand, smiling as she spotted the brilliant, dark red of the nail polish she had put there the night before, and started massaging the scarred palms, the knuckles, and the fingers.

A few sips of beer later, Jane added as an aside, "Sorry about falling down on you like that. You're remarkably squishy, though… in a good way, I mean."

"I didn't mind. It was comfortable." Eventually the honey-brunette switched to massaging Jane's left hand, until both were relaxed and, at least for a little while, free of aches.

"Normally you're the one laying on me. Maybe we should flip how we sleep?"

Maura's low chuckle did not hide the way her skin pinkened, but merely highlighted the dichotomy between bashfulness and confidence. "Okay." She had never quite been able to acknowledge the way they occasionally woke up. All right, the way they almost always woke up, despite starting out on opposite sides of any sleeping accommodations they shared. To change the subject, she wondered aloud, "Now that you've had a chance to breathe and get the feeling back in your lower body, how do you feel about motorcycle riding?"

An appreciative hum rumbled up from Jane's chest as Maura worked over Jane's hand. "Like I said before, the ride itself was nice once I got past the aches and total fear of falling off. I think I could get used to it, though, as long as you don't mind me clinging to your waist for dear life while you drive."

"I don't," Maura said with a light smile.

"I mean," Jane smirked back, "I'm not normally a clingy woman, but I'd have to make an exception with you on this one."

"You know," Maura mused with a small but spreading grin, "I've been thinking about buying a Roadmaster instead of just renting one every time I want to go out riding. We could go as often as we wanted."


	5. Chapter 5

"Oh yeah? How awesome would it be for us to pull up on one of these bad boys at a crime scene? God," the detective actually laughed aloud, "can you imagine? It'd be worth it just for the expressions on the other guys' faces, especially when they realized it was _you_ driving and not me."

Laughing, Maura contemplated the sight, and laughed harder when her mind played out an exaggerated movie version of such an event. It was quite some moments before she could tame her smile long enough to get another sip of ginger ale from the bottle sweating in her hand, dripping onto the leg of her dark riding jeans. "Oh, I don't think _that's_ a good idea. We want them concentrating on the crime scene, not how hot you'd look in leather. Besides, how would we carry our crime scene kits?

"Still, I'd love to see you getting off the back of a bike like this one," she gestured towards the Indian parked nearby, "swaggering up to the person securing the scene, and…" A giggle overtook her. "Except that you wouldn't. You'd just fall over on me, which would not be at all appealing at a crime scene. I'd get trace evidence all over my back."

"Hey," Jane objected with a grin, "that was a one-time thing. Now that I know, I totally have this under control."

"Pity," Maura mumbled into her ginger ale, but Jane just kept on talking.

"No more falling on top of you unless you make me, or want me to. Besides, you know the press would _eat it up_ if we pulled up on a motorcycle. I mean, our badass points would go through the roof." Jane's smile grew. "We should totally do that. We could put our kits in the saddlebags. There's enough room." Another snort of laughter escaped as she thought about it. "Frost would _pass out. _You know he totally has a thing for you, right? I'm pretty sure one of his dirty little fantasies is to watch his partner let Boston's chief medical examiner _'examine'_ her." With a roll of her eyes, Jane set the now empty beer bottle beside her, away from Maura, and repositioned herself so she could unfurl her legs and lean back on her elbows. "He's a piece of work sometimes."

Said medical examiner's jaw dropped, and her eyes widened as if she was scandalized, though the little tilt at the corner of her mouth said otherwise. "Jane!" she started to protest, and then stuttered as she realized she had nowhere to go. Her friend was most likely correct in most of the details she had suggested. Maura was well versed in many topics, and among them was fetishization of medical equipment, practices, and personnel. She was not blind to Frost's little crush, and though she doubted he had gone so far as to fantasize about _her_ branch of the medical profession since he viewed her work as gruesome, it was at least theoretically possible. Fear was, in the proper dosages, occasionally an aphrodisiac.

Still, Maura did find one detail to which she could object. "You know I can't perform an examination on you unless you're dead, and I really hope that won't happen for quite some time."

"Not exactly what I meant, Maur," the dark haired brunette raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "I'm pretty sure you know what I meant. I like Frost, but he's a guy, and guys are pretty notorious for thinking that sort of thing. I mean, how many times has a guy asked you if you'd examine them when they were trying to run pickup lines at a bar or whatever? I've lost track of the number of times a guy's asked me if I would use my handcuffs on him." Jane shook her head. "Men," she grumbled, "are stupid."

As Maura's face reddened and warmed again with her laughter, it occurred to her that that was happening a lot lately, all the laughing, and the blushing, and the turning warm. She put the thought aside, however, and responded to Jane's implication instead. "I see your point. You mean… Yes. Well, that is a common fantasy among heterosexual males. I can understand that. To someone who appreciates one hot woman, two hot women are twice as nice."

"Yeah… heterosexual males, homosexual females, bisexual people… I've pretty much had the whole spectrum ask me to use the cuffs. Straight men are the worst. Then they smile like they've said something clever. It's _not_ clever, buddy. Just once, I'd like to have someone try to pick me up using an intelligent line instead of 'I lost my number can I have yours' or 'I always fall for a girl like you' or some other just as crappy line. Why can't people who try to pick me up be more like you?" Maura's brow lifted as her shoulders tilted backward at that interesting statement, until Jane explained it. "Why can't they treat me like I have a brain, instead of just a pair of cuffs or a pretty face? I don't know about people sometimes," Sitting back up, Jane wiped at her forehead. "Man, it's getting hot out here. I'm going to pull this shirt off. Do you think there's room in the saddle bag for it?"

Maura's face went bland for a moment, pleasantly but not with overt smiles, before she answered. "Yes, there should be room in the one where I stowed the sandwiches, now that they're gone. Are you sure you want to do that, though? This place is secluded, but it's not actually private. Anyone could come along, though I'll admit, I haven't ever seen anyone else here. Besides," she started, then couldn't think of any way to continue.

Jane's eyes narrowed as she gave a quick eye roll. "I have a tank on under the shirt, Maura. When have you _ever_ known me to go topless?"

Maura's head tipped to one side as she gave the question far more consideration than it was worth, seeing as how it was rhetorical.

Grabbing the bottom of her shirt, Jane quickly pulled it over her head revealing a black, ribbed tank top beneath it. "You're in luck; I'm going to show you how I fold my shirts." With a smirk, she picked up the discarded shirt, rolled it into a roll, folded the roll in half, and stood up to put it in the saddle bag. "Oh yeah, I totally rock the house at folding clothes." Jane gave Maura a wink as she swaggered over to the motorcycle.

Sufficiently diverted from the pathways her thoughts had begun to take, Maura winced at the cavalier treatment of the shirt. Before she could speak up about it, however, either to object or to admit that it probably didn't matter because Jane probably would not be putting the shirt back on again before laundry day, distraction returned in the form of a tank-topped Jane with _that walk._ Winking.

She looked away towards a thinner section of trees, behind which one could just barely see open space and sky. There was a stream that way, and once their ears had become attuned to quieter noises than the impressive roar of the Roadmaster bike, she began to pick it up. It soothed her enough that when she returned her attention to Jane, Maura's expression was again serene. "While you're standing up, would you put our bottles into the empty plastic bag in there? We need to recycle them once we're back home." She picked up both empties and handed them up to her tall, standing friend.

"Yeah," Jane picked up, doing as she was asked, "So, are we going back now or is there somewhere else you're taking me on this thing?"

The question caught Maura off guard. "I can think of a great many places, if you'd like to leave. I was thinking we might stay a while. I have a blanket in the other saddlebag. We could take it a little closer to the trees and lie in the shade a while. There's a brook over that way, and it's relaxing. There are a few boulders in there that were carried south during the Ice Age, and you can see how different they look from most of the other stones, because the water's very clear."

"That sounds nice." Walking around the bike, Jane opened the other bag and pulled the blanket out. She looked at it for a long moment, frowning. "Maura, does this match my nail polish on purpose, or is it just a coincidence?"

Maura pondered, then shrugged it away as she stood, dusted off her backside, then picked up their jackets and did likewise with each one. "I guess I really do love that color," she replied with a private smile. She had not even come close to revealing that she had bought the blanket ages ago, in the hope of seeing it spread out beneath her best friend. "Shall we?" She led the way over to the trees, ducking between them to walk down a steep slope made easier by the placement of various stones which could be used to pace one's steps. Once Jane joined her, Maura paused to overlook the view halfway down the slope. The stream was closer to a full-fledged river since the rains of the preceding day, making the dark boulders stand out more starkly against lighter grey, brown, and reddish brown stones crowded around them as if in admiration.

One boulder lay long and nearly flat, jutting out over the water at a slight incline, and Maura picked her way towards it. "This is a perfect spot for sunbathing," she said, then quickly warned Jane, "Don't toss the blanket to unroll it. I tucked a pair of bathing suits and a bottle of sunscreen into it, in case you wanted to swim or wade or just lie out." She set down the jackets on the boulder and approached Jane to take the blanket and help unroll it at a slower pace.

"Thoughtful, but where would we change? You nearly had an attack two minutes ago when you thought I was about to go around half naked."

Maura smiled as she pointed towards the trees and the tall slope behind them. "That, for one. We can hold up the blanket to shield us from river view."

"I don't know," Jane's eyes glanced wistfully at the sun warmed boulder, "I would really like to get a tan, but, then my hair will purple up… and then the guys are always quick to jump on anything that looks like I might be going a little girly, and that's always a pain in the ass." She frowned, looking between Maura, blanket, and rock. "I'd look better if I was less pale, though." Finally shrugging, she met Maura's eyes. "What the hell? A tan would look good with the nails, right? Besides, I bet you want see those natural purple highlights, right? Let's change." With a soft smile, she made a motion with her hands for Maura to lead the way.

Maura smiled easily as she plucked the two suits from the blanket, a two-piece that deepened from turquoise to teal, and another in sleek black, and then took the blanket in hand as well. "I got the black one for you," she said as she draped it over a surprised Jane's shoulder with a wink, "I'll change first. Hold up the blanket?" She was already reaching for the hem of her cap-sleeve tank top.

Quickly pulling herself out of her surprise at the size of the suit draped over her arm, Jane held the blanket up an turned her head to give her friend as much privacy as she could. "You know, I'm taller than you, Maura. When it's my turn, how are we going to work this so I get enough coverage to change?"

"Easy." Behind the blanket, fabric rustled, some of it thumped to the ground, and then more rustling happened. "I don't have to hold the blanket high enough for your head to be hidden." There were two thunks as boots hit the ground, then _zzzzip! rustle, flomp_ as more fabric joined them. "I just have to hold it high enough for you to be hidden from the shoulders down. My arms will easily reach that high." More rustling, followed by an elastic snap of, one might correctly assume, bikini bottoms to hip bones. "Okay, you can drop the blanket for a minute and tie me in back." She was already facing away from the former blanket curtain and her friend. From the back, the suit wasn't all that special.

What it did to showcase Maura's figure, though, that was worth writing home about.

The bottoms were that rich turquoise, contrasting nicely with her pale skin, and shaped to emphasize the curve of her small but pleasantly shaped backside and the muscular development of her lower body. Since the top was untied, the darker turquoise strings hanging down her sides as one hand held the front of the suit to her chest, that didn't do much to enhance the view; but the view wasn't bad at all anyway, given Maura's level of fitness and the long, ropy muscles of her back. She lifted her free hand to push aside her hair, which was loose, the scrunchie sitting atop the neatly folded pile of clothing off to the side.

A few sputtering noises and grunt came floating over Maura's shoulder as Jane's fingers took hold of the small strings to tie down the top. "Wow, Maura, this suit is… um… I don't think I've ever seen you wear one so… I like the color." She finished tying the honey-brunette's top and stepped back, almost losing her footing but catching herself at the last minute. "When did you buy it? This morning? I mean, I don't remember seeing it in your," again, Jane's words garbled a little as the doctor turned around. In fact her words slowed to a staccato for a time. Jesus, where had she been smuggling those things? Jane had never had reason to hear of minimizing bras, had never realized that most of Maura's clothing was actually designed and cut to _de-_emphasize the chest. The ample, rounded, lovely, burrow-in-for-winter chest. "Just. Bought. Pile." She swallowed hard and licked her lips, blinking rapidly. "So… I guess," big brown eyes shifted to the black bathing suit, "it's my turn."

Maura wanted to smile smugly, but schooled her features to a more open, sweet face. "I picked these up on Tuesday, just in case the motorcycle rental came through. I figured if it didn't happen this week, we'd eventually need them some other time. Actually, when you first suggested teal, I thought you must have seen the suits in my laundry pile, and maybe the color hung around in your subconscious mind for a while." She took her time plucking the blanket's edge from Jane's fingers and rising it before her face, stretching her arms high to cover Jane from view.

The suit Maura had picked for Jane was a revelation in several ways. The bottom was a surprisingly modest cut, almost like boy short panties, and an extremely astute fashion maven might have picked up on why: Maura had no idea how much coverage would be needed on the other woman's body, whether she customarily shaved her bikini line, or how uncomfortable she would feel in a revealing suit.

She had not, however, felt the need to consider such things for the bikini top. A more endowed woman would have looked and felt silly in those two tiny triangles joined by the thinnest of black strings. On Jane, the top was both supportive and extremely flattering, highlighting what she had and turning her leanness into an asset which even Jane would recognize once she got the suit home and stood in front of a mirror.

"Okay, you can drop it. Will you, um," Jane was blushing, and it was clearly creeping its way down her neck and over her shoulders and collarbone. She turned away from the blanket before Maura could take down the improvised curtain. "Will you help with mine, too? This suit is a little… I mean, it's nice, but I'm really glad you're the only one who can see me in it."

Maura tossed the blanket onto the flat rock behind them, then turned to face her task. Not, of course, without a quick perusal of the view from the rear, which caused her to smile yet again. Delicately her fingers brushed Jane's neck. "I have hold of the strings. You can drop your hands and move your hair for me. I don't want to get it caught."

She congratulated herself on only fumbling a little with the top and bottom strings, then finished the job with a little pat on Jane's shoulders. "All done." Then Maura stepped back to see the full effect of the suit she had picked on its intended wearer. Her jaw dropped. _"Jane,"_ she said in appreciative tones, clearly impressed. "On the contrary, I think _everyone_ should see you in this. You look magnificent."

"Okay," Jane was still blushing as she followed. "But, I don't think 'everyone' should see me in this. Remember when I said that men were stupid? I'm pretty sure this," she glanced down at herself, "would make them beyond stupid."

"You make a valid and compelling argument." Maura bent to pick up the sunscreen and squirted sun-warmed lotion into her palm. A single index finger twirling in the air cued Jane to turn around so that Maura could begin smoothing the white liquid over skin already semi-tanned.

"Yeah, well," Jane mumbled, secretly pleased at the oblique compliment. "If it's all the same, I think I'll just wear it around you, okay?"

"Thank you."

"Good… wait, why are you thanking me?" To help, Jane bent her knees slightly so her shoulders and upper back were easier to reach. "I should be thanking you for the," she began ticking things off on her fingers as she ran through their day so far, "bike ride, lunch, imported beer, bathing suit, and being willing to help with the sunscreen. How come you're doing all this?"

Taking extra time with the sunscreen, Maura pondered the question. What answer would satisfy her friend, be truthful, but not too truthful? She could not delay response for much longer; the lotion was fully rubbed into the skin, creamy white turned invisible as it spread, turning Jane's back shiny from the neck to the tops of the bikini shorts. When they came, Maura's words and even her voice echoed those of a long-ago movie, a high school princess affectionately grooming an outcast as they hid away from similarly mismatched peers. "Because you're letting me." Impulsively, she leaned in and wrapped her arms around the taller woman, slippery hands sliding around the slender waist to nestle on opposite sides thereof as she inhaled the coconut and cocoa butter scent blended with the rich olfactory warmth she associated with her best friend.

* * *

With a quick intake of air, Jane froze, her body going momentarily stiff at the sudden contact before relaxing into the impromptu touch. "I trust you, Maura. You know that." She gave the arms wrapped around her a gentle pat before turning around, letting the other woman remain wrapped around her as she pleased. "Let me get your back so we can both finish getting stuff on us, okay?" With a gentle smile and just a trace of affection on her face, Jane raised an eyebrow and waited for Maura to release her hold.

She did let go, but not without a final little squeeze, and then Maura turned away like a four-year-old faced with a Disney princess, face downcast but smiling as she remembered to hand Jane the bottle of sunscreen behind her back. "I trust you too," she said quietly, several seconds after she had moved her hair aside, just before Jane's lotioned hand came into contact with her skin.

"I feel pretty lucky about that," Jane's voice was quiet as she concentrated on thoroughly applying the lotion. "I think we're alike about that, not trusting people easily, I mean. Ma is always harping on me that I never tell her anything and tell you everything." She chuckled as her hand ran down Maura's back in careful movements, rubbing in circles. "I guess we both have good reasons for that, though."

Maura stretched within Jane's nurturing hands. This ability to touch with simultaneous strength and gentleness was another decidedly feminine trait, she took note, that she would not be mentioning to the other detectives, or in fact anyone else, whether they worked for the BPD or not. She liked having knowledge about anything, but even more, she enjoyed knowledge of Jane that was only hers. Leaning back into the soft pressure, she wondered aloud, "Reasons like what?"

"In my line of work, it doesn't pay to trust easily. It'll get you burned or worse. For you, I don't know. I mean, I could take a guess, but I know how much you hate that." Long fingers finished messaging in lotion just above the top of the teal bottoms. "Alright, I'm done. Want to go sit down on the rock like lizards and finish putting lotion on?"

"Yes," Maura replied, stepping towards the blanket without a backward glance, at least not until she was standing on it. She waited her turn with the lotion bottle, content just to stand and look out over the water and contemplate Newtonian physics and chaos theory, a pursuit inspired and helped along by the rippling surface of the stream. Things in motion stayed in motion, at constant speed and direction, until another force came to stop them. Water was its own force, causing its own path to meander even on a smooth and homogenous surface, which the earth was not. Repeated movement over meandering pathways, more and more nudged this way and that by hard rock, soft soil, wind, and myriads of myriads of other factors would eventually create a river that flowed not in a straight line, but in a snaking path, like the one stretched out before her. The pale-olive woman inhaled deeply, held the air for as long as it would let her, then released it to form its own chaos. She needed, Maura contemplated, an outside force to disturb her inertia, nudge her to change her path.

"Jane, I trust you, and I trust the strength of our friendship. You know that?" Only once she had asked did she turn around to see the lanky, statuesque woman she claimed as her best friend, lotioned body shining in the sun.

"Yeah, of course," Jane handed the lotion bottle over and dropped down to settle on the rock, stretching out to enjoy the feel of the sun warming her body. "What's on your mind, Maura?"

Maura took the bottle, turning a bit more than half away from Jane to give herself a good coating of sun protection, starting with her limbs. One pebble tossed into a stream would, given enough time, change its course. She had spoken. That was one pebble; now for a bigger one. "I know you don't like it when I start saying something and then don't finish right away. I'm sorry to repeat that pattern, but I need to do it this way. If I don't give you a reason to push me, I'll never do it."

She paused to squirt out more lotion, this time applying it in tiny fingertip smears to her face before going back for a bit more to treat her neck, chest, and abdomen. "I need to ask you something _because_ I trust you. I know that it will make us both feel really awkward for a little while. We'll eventually be comfortable again, but I don't want to ask until later. Can you wait until we're dressed again, and then push me? Don't let us leave this place until I ask you what I'm going to ask you."

"I'm not going to lie, Maura. That's going to be really hard for me to do. I mean, couldn't you just ask me now? Whatever it is, you know you can trust me with it."

"I trust you, but I can't ask this right now. I really can't. Not yet."

Jane sat up, crossing her legs and facing her friend, who dropped to her knees close by, wanting to be on equal standing. "Are you okay? No one's hurt you, have they?" Concern marking the angular plains of her face, the detective reached out to place a reassuring hand on the arm of the other woman. "Maura, you're not in any danger, are you?"

"Well," Maura hesitated, then realized that may have been a mistake. Lowering her gaze, Maura chuckled, then sobered. "Bad joke. I'm sorry. No, Jane, I am not in any physical danger from anyone else, nor from myself. No one's hurt me, no one's threatened me. I'm not scared, just nervous." After a deep, calming breath, she looked back up with affection. "But thank you for wanting to be sure. You make me feel safe." She laced her fingers through Jane's, still resting on her own arm, and reclined on her side for a moment, facing the other woman. After a quiet moment of nothing but smiling, she rolled onto her back and closed her eyes, letting the sun envelop her in light.

For a long moment, Jane stared down at the shorter woman before following her lead. She allowed the quiet to settle. Though not uncomfortable, the unspoken question hung between them. Jane's impatience peaked out through her nervous fidgets and occasional grunt of frustration. Finally, she broke the silence.

"Yes," she sighed, sitting up again to stand, "I would and I do." With that cryptic comment, she slid off the boulder and into the cool water, dipping her head under and disappearing from view.

"Hm, would what?" Maura murmured, eyes remaining closed until she heard the light but unmistakable splash. Quickly she scrambled to the edge of the rock, where the blanket no longer covered, and propped her hands on the edge to watch the flesh-and-black form beneath the busy surface of the crystal clear stream. Even distorted so, she could just make out the tiny dots of wine-red finger- and toenails. Mercifully, other details were obscured, at least until the surface broke again and she watched the water splash off Jane's face, hair, and frame in gushing rivulets. "Thanks, that helps," she muttered sarcastically beneath her breath, then smiled ruefully. The expression was still there by the time chocolate brown eyes opened and focused once more.

Jane ran her hands over her face and down her hair, smirking. "No idea what I'm helping," she teased, still standing in the gently moving water, "but I'm glad I could help." She raised an eyebrow, nothing but mischief on her face. "What am I helping?"

There was nothing in Maura that would enable her to avoid responding to that look, and as she laughed, she realized she didn't want to try. "You're making it easier to want to just jump in," she said as she stood and let herself fall, not prettily diving or neatly slipping, but with relaxation in the air that led to a healthy splash upon landing not two feet from the taller woman.

A squeal echoed through the area as the splash hit Jane's face. "Maura! You _so_ did that on purpose. That's it. Prepare to be dunked!" Long arms made a grab as she lunged for her intended victim.

Maura squawked, jumping backward, though not quickly enough. She gulped in a desperate lungful of air just before being manhandled beneath the rippling surface, limbs flying in all directions.

Or, rather, in four somewhat specific directions. If she was going under, then Jane was going with her. What had seemed for a moment like pure surprise quickly became apparent as a sneaky grappling tactic. Both arms and legs closed around her lankier friend's body and held on tight until her own lungs and Jane's struggle told her it was time to let them both up for air. Once they broke the surface, she allowed herself a good, quick breath or three, then hurriedly shoved Jane backward by the shoulders. Two could play that game.

Having two younger brothers gave Jane a slight advantage of experience. Instead of struggling to pull up, she suddenly went further down and out of Maura's grasp. Moving swiftly, she kicked through, propelling herself between Maura's legs to pop up behind the smaller woman, arms wrapping tightly around the small waist. "Ha!" In a tight twist, Jane pulled them both back under.

With a yelp, Maura sunk back under the waves, her two battle tactics – the 'innocent' flail and the hurried return volley – having been exhausted. She was a strong swimmer, but doing laps unmolested in a half-sized Olympic pool wasn't nearly the same as roughhousing with someone who learned by being double-teamed by brothers or surrounded by her friends, the neighborhood boys. Maura stood no chance. Still, she twisted, wiggled, and writhed in her captor's arms, putting up a valiant struggle that, nevertheless, granted her neither freedom nor a chance to strike back.

Jane held tight, rolling them a few times before pulling them both up for air. Laughing and gasping for air, she let go. "Okay, okay, truce," she wiped at her eyes with her left hand as she held her right up as if to guard herself from a surprise attack by Maura, who was still spluttering as she giggled and huffed with exertion. "You need dunking lessons, Maur." Winded but still laughing she shook her hair out before opening her eyes to look for her friend. "I mean, there are classic defensive moves that… _holy crap."_

"What?" asked Maura, grinning from ear to ear at whatever was causing such befuddlement. "You won! I acknowledge your victory."

Going from playful to full out stupefied in the time it takes most people to take in a breath of air, Jane could only stare and blink waiting for her mind to catch up with what her eyes were seeing. "Your… y-you…the… the thing that does the thing with the things," eyes wide, she pointed at her own chest and then to Maura's, sentences not quite coherent. "It's… not doing the thing it should with the things… I mean," Jane slapped her palm against her forehead for a moment. Maura's head simply tilted, uncomprehending, to the side. Finally, Jane was able to squeak out, "Oh my freaking God. Maura, your top came off!" As soon as it was out of her mouth, everything clicked in Jane's head, and she quickly turned away. "I…you… God. I'm sorry!"


	6. Chapter 6

Jane's pointing eventually clued Maura in that she might want to look down. She did, and in an instant her head was thrown back in honest, belly-deep laughter. Belatedly, however, she realized her friend's distress. Lightning-quick, her mind processed what she knew and formed a working hypothesis. Jane was the one who would not shower right in the locker rooms at the gym until she could snag a spot in one of the three stalls that had curtains. Jane had not gone to boarding school and shared group showers from the age of ten onward, all through awkward adolescence. Jane had not been to topless beaches on every warm, non-school day during her six years in Europe.

No, Maura wasn't body shy, but Jane? Jane, she recognized when her laughter slowed a little, was struck dumb with actual mortification. The honey-brunette turned her back to her best friend purely out of consideration for Jane, not for her own sense of modesty. She fumbled with the teal triangles and strings trailing down her body and out in the water, shaking her head as she accused over her shoulder, "You need swimsuit tying lessons! But I'll take a plain old double-knot, if you'd like a chance to redeem yourself. Here, do me up again." And just like that, it was done, or so Maura thought. She seemed about as embarrassed on her own account as if she'd answered the door without shoes or earrings on, rather than that most of her body had just been exposed to someone other than a personal physician or lover.

"You want me to tie your top?" face, where they eventually covered her eyes. With her voice muffled, it was difficult to hear the uncertainty, but it was there. "I…I don't think… oh, good God… I just… too much… He's throwing too much at me," dropping her hands, Jane dunked herself in the water and remained there.

Hearing Jane's difficulty, Maura swept her hair forward over one shoulder and tied her own top, which worked fine other than the knot being a little lopsided. It would annoy her, but not enough to redo it, not when Jane was in distress. Once decent again, Maura turned around and ducked beneath the water to take hold of her and bring her back up to the air she would need soon. "Jane. Jane, come up. I'm covered. It's okay, Jane. Jane? It's all right. I'm not embarrassed. Please don't be upset."

Jane's head popped back out of the water. "Not upset… holy God, I can't even," the detective continued to sputter as she pulled away from her friend and scrambled up on the rock where she quickly plopped face-down onto the blanket.

Maura stood in the water, hands reaching too late to catch her friend's hand, reestablish contact. She had wanted so much to have one carefree day with her best friend, the closest friend she had ever had, that she could have ever wanted. One day that mattered to no one but themselves.

As her tear ducts began to ache, she bent her legs to slip beneath the cool water. She remained submerged for as long as her lungs would permit, letting the stream wash away, if it could, the sinking feeling in her chest. Miraculously, it worked. Maura took comfort in the way the water wanted to push her, but could not, and in the way her body felt unfettered by gravity, even though she knew that that was not the case. Saddened and perplexed, she swam upstream a little ways, giving herself and Jane a little time of separation, then floated back down on her back until she was right near their rock again. She hauled herself up out of the water and, remembering the visual that she herself had so appreciated just a few minutes previously, let the gushing and dribbling trickle to almost nothing before approaching the blanket where her friend lay.

The teal-clad woman had decided to reintroduce herself into Jane's solitude with silence, rather than delving right into the seriousness. She would ask no direct questions; she would say nothing, and if Jane felt she wanted to explain, she could do that under her own impetus. Instead of speaking, she simply lay on the blanket, almost exactly where she had been before the impromptu swim, but face down, so as not to remind Jane of the problem. Problems.

"Sorry, Maura," came a very muffled voice from beside the doctor. "I'm used to horseplay with the guys. I didn't mean to pull your top off. Guys, you know, they normally don't have tops and, if they do, it's not like I have to worry about it." She groaned into the blanket. She went quiet again, breath coming in slow inhales and exhales. "I'm also sorry about the ogling. That was … inappropriate of me."

Maura rolled onto her side, which put her a bit further away from Jane, but at least she could reach out a hand to her friend's shoulder, reassuring and kind. "I know you didn't mean for my top to come untied," she said quietly after a little moment to think of how to respond, "and I'm not embarrassed. You weren't ogling. You were just surprised. Hey." Her hand exerted just a little more pressure on that shoulder. "Jane? Are you upset because you think _I'm_ upset, or are you upset on your own? What's going on?"

"I'm upset because I was ogling. I really was," came the still muffled response.

"Well, okay, but I don't mind," Maura replied, not sounding as surprised as Jane would have preferred. "We're still best friends. This won't be uncomfortable for long. We won't let it. I believe we're both invested in getting past any awkwardness there could ever be between us. Isn't that true?"

"Yeah, I'm all for no awkwardness. I just ogled my best friend's perfect, perky boobs for I don't know how long, and," Jane finally sat up, looking at Maura and trying to keep her gaze at eye level, "she's perfectly okay with it. _That's_ not awkward or anything. God, I'm sorry, Maura. I really am. You're my best friend, not a piece of meat. You're just so… I mean, I'm just… I-I'm sorry, really sorry."

Maura sat up halfway in thought, biting her lip and evaluating her options, then the rest of the way as she made a decision. "I forgive you for anything you think you've done wrong. Okay? Fully and completely forgiven. But I need your forgiveness, too."

"My forgiveness?" The detective was clearly puzzled. "_My_ forgiveness? For what?"

"Because I didn't realize it was bad to look." The explanation came easily, but didn't actually explain anything, and Maura seemed to know that. "I thought it was the same thing as you taking my picture last night because you thought I looked nice without makeup on. You appreciate my conversation, my company, my thoughts, and my feelings. The same things I appreciate about you. I thought that this was just another thing you appreciated about me. It makes me feel _good_ when you look at me.

"But," she continued after a deep breath, reaching to stroke the backs of her fingers down the side of her dear friend's face, "if you think it's bad to look at me, then I guess it's bad when I look at you, too. I'm really sorry that I do that, and I'm sorry that I never told you so that you could be rightfully angry about it."

"Wait a minute, wait a just a minute," Jane's expression morphed from sad and apologetic to confused. "Maura, are you saying... what I think you're saying?" She waved her hand in the air to keep the doctor from replying. "Tell me the question. Tell me now. Right now, or I walk back home."

* * *

Maura's lips pursed; she held her breath for a moment, then nodded as she let it out. "Okay. First, though, let me remind you that by asking this at all, I am spreading my trust under your feet. Tread softly." Another long inhalation followed as she ordered her thoughts, and then she lay it out, pink and tender as a newborn.

"I've had such a beautiful day, Jane," came Maura's quiet voice, light and tentative. I'm going to want to keep the memory of it for a very long time. Sometimes, I'm going to think back on it when I need to feel good, when I need something precious to hold onto. When I'm doing that, Jane, when I'm remembering everything about today, would you rather that I think about it as one of the best days I've spent with my best friend… or would it be okay with you if instead, I remembered it as being the best first date I've ever had?"

"Why can't it be both?" The question was out before Jane could think about it. No judgment. No anger. No recoiling in disgust. Just the question, laid out simply.

Maura's face suddenly wreathed in smiles she could not control. "No reason at all."

"Okay, then," Jane ran a hand over her face and through her still damp hair, a smile playing lightly at the corners of her mouth. "When were you going to clue me in that we were on a date? Because, normally, I don't see the people I'm going out with topless until the second or third date."

"Oh, really," Maura laughed, "that's where you're going to go? Okay. Okay, but to be fair, usually people don't tackle me and take my clothes off quite this soon, either. Not without getting slapped, anyway. And if you'll recall," she said, calming a little and switching gears, "I did plan to ask you if you could think of this as a date. I even told you I had a question, so that you'd refuse to let me get away with taking the coward's way out by not saying anything. The plan was to ask you after we got our clothes back on, though, in case you felt… uneasy with me for a little while."

She had planned for rejection.

"You're too smart and too observant for me to believe you haven't noticed the affect you have on me, Maura, and I'm too good of a detective not to know what you were going to ask before you refused to ask me right then." Jane was also calming down, shifting gears, but she wasn't following the lightheartedness that would normally be her trademark. Instead, her face became suddenly serious, eyes almost sad. "I would never reject you. I told you before I hopped into the water, 'Yes. I would and I do.' _Yes_," she gave a very weak smile, "I feel the same way about you. I _would_ like to give this a try. I _do_ want to be more than friends."

Maura couldn't stop smiling, but the smiles kept changing, from beaming in delight to small and bashful, to something very like what Jane now carried on her phone. "I know… I know the way you respond to me, but I wasn't certain if you _wanted_ to be responding to me in that way. You still could have run from it," she pointed out as she edged a little nearer, voice lowering, "except for the fact that I brought you out to the middle of nowhere."

"Yeah, that does sort of limit what I'm able to do if I did decide to run. You also have my clothes held hostage, and I can't really run in nothing but a two piece. I mean, I'm sure someone would eventually pick me up, but I don't really think I'd want them to if they _wanted_ to." Jane didn't move, but she didn't pull away. She had just given a piece of herself up in admitting her feelings about her best friend. It was time for Maura to make the next move.

"I will admit to ulterior motive in that choice," Maura confessed. "It was selfish, manipulative, underhanded, and not at all nice. I wanted you to have to hold me one more time before you ran away…

"But if you'll recall, I did intend to let both of us get dressed again before I told you that I wanted to date you." She paused, face taking on a sheepish cast. "Would you believe that I didn't plan any further than asking, and you telling me to get lost? If I'd envisioned this a little better, I'd have thought of what to do if you said yes. I mean, what to do in a practical sense. A course of action, rather than a… um… daydream. I sort of got stuck on those whenever I tried to make a concrete plan."

"So, what was the daydream? Maybe," Jane's eyes brightened as a smile slowly found its way to her face, "you should go with the fantasy?"

"Oh, no. Bad idea." Maura chuckled as she shook her head. "I'm not _that_ fast, outside of my own head." Even so, her mind started to catalogue her own and Jane's physical responses to one another as she scooted closer – breath rates, pupil dilation, _pars lateralis_ and _orbicularis oculi_ rotation, skin temperature increases.

Then she forcibly shut it off, because what she wanted to concentrate on was not scientific facts but personal ones, such as the fact that her nerve endings were tingling and Jane smelled _so_ good, and her hands were hungry to touch that tanned skin and hold their bodies together. She trailed one hand up from her friend's forearm to her shoulder, then slip back down to rest on that taut waist. Rising to stand on her knees, spare hand now lifting Jane's face towards hers, she bent to hover just above those beautiful, sweet lips that had so inhabited her fantasy life. And then she just stayed there, avoiding actual contact by the thinnest of margins, and just letting herself breathe that moment.

Jane leaned in, closing the space as she captured Maura's lips with her own. She gently pulled the smaller woman to her, guiding the honey-brunette to sit in her lap as the kiss deepened.

"_Jane,"_ breathed Maura several minutes later as she, with great difficulty, let that first delicious spree of contact end. She was flushed and breathless, not to mention enormously pleased. When, she wondered, had she begun to straddle Jane's lap? Her mind flashed back a replay of exactly when and how it had happened, and there was a delightful tickle all throughout her body. "You are _intense."_

"Comes with the badge," the brunette deadpanned before allowing her face to break into a classic Rizzoli grin. "Are you complaining?"

"I'm complimenting," replied Maura, a millimeter away from another scorching kiss. Just one, though; she broke from it when her own lips refused to keep from smiling. One finger lifted to trace the dimples in Jane's face, the gentle swell of the lower lip, the cleft in her chin, the strong jawline. "It's one of the things that attracts me to you. One of _many_ things."

"There's a list?" Jane's hands ran a path up and down Maura's back as she leaned back to look the woman in her lap in the eye. "I bet you have written down somewhere, and it's in categories that are listed in alphabetical order or from greatest to least desired or something, don't you?"

The smaller woman's back arched, but only just, a reaction indicative of a respectable level of restraint. "Don't be silly, Jane," she replied in a voice that was almost – _almost _– as cool as usual. "I don't need a list, when all the reasons are right there any time I look at you. Which, as I believe I mentioned earlier, is often."

"Point." Dark brown eyes narrowed in thought as she watched the smaller woman move above her. "Let's get dressed and go back. I want to take a shower and then take you somewhere for the evening. What do you say?"

Hazel eyes lit up as Maura agreed, "I'd like that." A single fluid motion took her from sitting astraddle Jane's thighs to standing above her, and then she offered both hands to assist Jane as well. "Clothes over swimsuits, so no one has to hold the blanket?"

"Probably a good idea. I'd cheat and look anyway." Jane winked as she made her way carefully back to their pile of clothes. "I know you're going to ask, so, no, I'm not telling you where we're going. Yes, you do need to dress nice… like nice for you nice, not nice for me nice. Yes, I'll come pick you up. No, I don't care which place we spend the night tonight, but I do care that we do spend the night together... if only so we're in the same room together. Fair?"

Maura considered all the available, stated options as she took her time to bend over, way over. She picked up Jane's clothes and handed them to her, then her own pair of jeans, leaving the rest on the ground. Nothing she hadn't done before, but things are different in a bikini. "I agree to your terms." Shinnying into her jeans, she bent again to pick up her tank top and held it for a moment as she watched Jane performing similar actions. "Including the ones you offered last night."

With a little hop, Jane pulled her pants on and buttoned them. "Good," she nodded as she pulled her tank on. "Wait… what? What did I agree to last night?"

"You didn't agree," Maura explained, still waiting with tank top in hand. "You laid out terms, and I'm agreeing to them now. You said if I could give you a picture you liked more, you'd put that one on your phone instead." She smiled and helpfully pointed out, "I have a bikini, a motorcycle, and a tan. There ought to be _something_ we can do with that, don't you think?"

Jaw dropping, eyes widening, the tall brunette let out a string of sounds before clearing her throat and trying again for coherent speech. "You do you realize that Korsak and Frost _will_ probably see any pic of you that comes up on my phone when you call, right? I mean, the one I took last night wasn't as… well, I mean," Jane wiped at her mouth as she thought. "There's nothing I want more than _that_ picture on _my_ phone, but you sure you're good with me using it as your profile picture?"

"Oh, yes," replied Maura as she finally tugged on her boots, tank top slung over one shoulder. This time, when picking up the blanket and its remaining contents of undergarments and sun block, Maura squatted instead of bending over. "Oh, yes. I'd rather they see me in a bikini than in my bathrobe or night clothes. Bikinis are meant to be seen. Bathrobes and nightwear are made to be seen only by a very select few, and frankly, they aren't on that very short list." She stood again and began heading up the incline. "I don't want that picture anywhere on your phone. No bathrobes, no nightwear, no… special garments, and definitely no nudity."

"Nudity? Wait… _nudity?"_ Jane looked around to see Maura heading off toward the motorcycle. "Maura! Wait up!" She pulled her boots on and took off at a run to catch up. When she finally made it back to the clearing, she found Maura carefully packing the saddlebags.

Out of breath, the detective took a moment. "Okay, I'll put the picture from last night… elsewhere. But, you know, they're not going to have any questions about our relationship if I use the picture you're suggesting, either. Just so you know… I mean, _I_ have no problems with that if you don't. Also," Jane's eyes narrowed, "did you say 'nudity'?"

Maura was similarly huffing as she tucked various things into the saddlebags, finding room where there had been little before. The undergarments, she kept wrapped in the blanket, thinking ahead to when she unpacked the saddlebags as they returned the vehicle in less than an hour. "Merely stating for possible future reference," she replied, not quite casually, as she fastened both bags and turned around to lean against the bike, facing Jane, jeans still unfastened. She had gotten quite the tan, despite her fair skin. Some of it was an increase in freckle number and size, but in between them she had gone from whitebread to lightly toasted. "We might want to talk about that at dinner, or afterward. I don't like to assume things."

"I'm suddenly less interested in dinner," licking her lips, Jane ran her eyes over the sight before her. "Don't. Move." She fumbled in her pockets for a moment before pulling out her phone. It took a minute to get just the right angle and just the right lightening, but, once she snapped the picture, the detective practically did a happy dance as she replaced Maura's profile picture with the newest photo in collection for Maura pictures she had stashed away. "You know," she said as she walked over to show the picture to the honey blonde, "you should consider modeling. Seriously, babe, you're hot." Eyes gone dark again, she held her phone up to show the other woman.

When offered the chance to look at the phone, Maura skipped over, suddenly _cute_ again in a girlish way, to look. "Actually, I have modeled," she began to say, then fell silent as she glanced, then stared at the phone. "Yes. This one, you may use. Do I get one of you, too? Because I do like having just a picture of your badge leaning against your coffee cup, but I'd like one that shows _you,_ too. Hop on."

"We're coming back to that modeling thing, just so you know." Jane opened a saddlebag and secured her phone inside it. "You want me to look like I'm riding that?" She pointed to the bike. "I mean… I," at Maura's matter-of-fact look, the brunette shrugged. "Okay, but I can't promise to look half as good as you do." With that, she threw her leg over the seat, straddled the motorcycle, placed on hand on the handlebars, and the other atop her thigh. "How do you want me?"

Maura's own phone, she had removed from the bag and tucked into her front pocket. Now she drew it out and started manipulating its virtual buttons, taking one 'practice' picture of Jane just as she was before suggesting, "Keep that hand on the handlebars. Both heels flat on the ground, and slightly back, please. Hm. Lean backward a little, and your other hand is fine wherever."

Her eyes widened as Jane complied with the request, and immediately there came a click. "Goodness," she said, eyes still on Jane for a long moment before checking her phone to be sure it had seen what she had seen. "That's the shot. Okay, shall we head back?" Immediately she tucked in her tank top, fastened her jeans the rest of the way, and swung up onto the bike in front of Jane, handing the other woman her helmet first.

"No, I want to see the picture!" Jane took the helmet with a pout. It made Maura smile as she pulled out the phone to oblige, speaking not a word as she showed Jane why she had felt the need for only one shot.

It was an amazing shot, especially for a camera phone. Jane's long, lean body arced in an exaggerated curve, with her pelvis at the front, head and feet almost directly in line at the outer ends. Her clothes were just barely too tight to look right, and therefore they highlighted the slender muscularity of her, while the setting sun set her skin gleaming and her glossy hair aglow with those purple and orange highlights that had so transfixed Maura earlier as they lay spilled on the ground.

One graceful hand trailed back towards the bitch seat, while the other took strong hold of the handlebars. And then there was the look on her face, an intensity of focus combined with the utter relaxation of someone completely at home in her own skin. It was better than a gentleman's magazine ad for… just about anything, really.

"I'd say you photoshopped that picture, but I just saw you take it." Jane handed the phone back. "We should probably get going, right?" She pulled her helmet on and settled, hands on Maura's waist.

Maura pulled on her helmet and tapped the microphone. "Hold on tight," she said as though she intended to make the ride home a bit more exciting… and then, she didn't. All the way back to the dealership, she simply enjoyed the feeling of Jane's hands at her waist, the warm body pressed against her back, and the long thighs hugging her hips.

* * *

Dinner had been delicious, quiet, and pleasant in every way. The wine was rich and full-bodied, the service discreet and thorough, the conversation not too heavy.

Jane had looked thoroughly delectable in her chosen attire, and Maura had been hard pressed to maintain her customary decorum in the restaurant. Jane had taken the opportunity to wear something outside of her norm, and, though she always looked wonderful, the dress made her absolutely stunning. Black to allow her fingernails to pop, sleeveless to accentuate her arms, the bodice was tight fitted with a wrap-around look to it. The dress fell just short of the top of her knees, and the black peep-toe shoes allowed the wine red to shine out against her darkened olive skin.

She had chosen to take care with her hair, straitening it but leaving it down to allow the sun lightened highlights to play in the soft light of the restaurant. To add to her look, she wore a small amount of makeup – eyeliner to allow her eyes to pop and a tinted lipgloss. She was striking. It had been difficult for Maura to restrict herself to holding hands and sometimes stroking fingertips along Jane's fingers and wrist of the hand nearest her.

Maura had chosen to wear a little black dress that was surprisingly demure, at least on the face of it. Three-quarter sleeves, below the knee length, even a somewhat high neckline, all covered her newly toasted skin. However, it was fitted in such a way as to accentuate silhouette, as well as drawing the eye up towards her face, wherein lay her identity and expressiveness; and down, towards the toned legs and the surprising teal snakeskin peep-toed heel below. Her jewelry was chunky and bold without being garish.

Perhaps in silent reference to Jane's comments concerning the way she liked to see Maura best, the honey hair was styled simply. Big, bouncing waves brushed back from her face, which employed minimal cosmetics to barely emphasize eyes and lips. Nutmeg sprinkles of freckling highlighted the healthy skin and the lack of colored foundation thereon. Whenever they neared one another for any reason, Jane would catch a whiff of some warm, personal fragrance that she knew did not come from a perfume or cologne, as it lacked the astringent after-scent. A lotion, probably, and no more. She had gone simple and natural, for Jane.

Afterward, the pair had gone to Jane's to pick up Jo Friday and, though they did not speak of the arrangement aloud, Jane's overnight bag. Maura let them inside and released the dog from her leash, taking a few minutes to spoon some canned food into the dish she kept in the kitchen, opposite her tortoise's food and water bowls. Once Jo's needs were met, she made quick work of feeding Bass as well, then turned around towards Jane again, head tilted in a 'what now?' pose.

Jane glanced around the room, one hand's fingers nervously running over the scars on her other hand. "I think I'm nervous. I'm at your place with you, and I don't know what to do with myself for the first time ever." She gave a little anxious chuckle as she smoothed the hem of her dress. "Plus, you know, I don't wear this kind of thing often, and I'm a little afraid to sit down on the couch." She shot Maura and apologetic look.

Maura pushed herself away from the counter's edge and led the way towards the dining room, rather than the living room. "Then let's sit in here," she suggested, softly taking the taller woman's hand on the way past her. "It's easier to sit upright in eveningwear than to recline on the couch. Anyway, we should talk."

"I want to know about a lot of things," Jane said as she settled in a chair. "I want to know _everything_ about you." She gave a soft smile as a blush crept up her neck, "But, it's late, and there are few things we should probably cover before we go to bed tonight. I'm thinking everything else we can cover tomorrow or whenever." Again, that smile. "I'm not much up on touchy-feely conversations, so I hope you don't hold it against me for just coming out and asking this," she cleared her throat. "Maura, where am I sleeping tonight?"

Maura worked through the possibilities and, for once, she shared her logical process as it was happening, slowing her own mind deliberately so that she missed nothing, and nothing was left unexplained. "Logically, you wouldn't need to ask that question if you wanted to sleep in the guest room, because you know that you're always welcome to it. You wouldn't need to ask it if you'd already established in your mind that certain alternatives were off the table, either; you'd start by saying so, and asking what I wanted out of whatever was left for consideration."

The thoughts, tasting strange on her tongue as normal human interactions often did, led to an inevitable conclusion. "Therefore, what you're asking is what _I_ want. Which is…" Her face colored, and she smiled as she looked elsewhere. "Which is to hold you close to me and kiss you until I'm so tired I can't anymore, and you're so tired that you can't even think of getting up to go anywhere else."

Jane pushed a straightened strand of hair from her face as she gave a nod. "Does this mean that we're official, or are we feeling this out? Honestly, I have no desire to see anyone else if you're willing to be with me, but I need to know where, exactly, we are."

"I want to be with you," Maura replied, leaving no room for interpretation this time. "There are practical considerations involved, though. If I'm _with_ someone," she said, giving it a delicate inflection to indicate physical intimacy, "I'm not with anyone else at the same time, and I'm not with anyone else for six months afterward, either. It's the way I stay safe. It's been longer than six months for me at this time; I'm clean. That's information you need to factor into an intelligent choice about whether you want to be with me, when, and how much protection to use. I need to know those things about you, too."

She leaned forward, one hand slipping across the table to land very near Jane's. "And then there are the purely personal considerations. I want to be with _you,_ Jane. Only you. I want to know that if you're leaving work early, it's because you're going to be with me that night, not with someone else. If we're going to do this, I need us both to focus on one another and give it the best chance we can. It means I don't want to go so fast that I don't get to savor every little step we take together, and I don't want to go so slowly that those closest to us can't even tell anything's different for either of us. I want to be dating you. I don't mind if you want to keep it to ourselves that it's me you're dating, but I want people to be able to see it when they look at you, know that something different and better is happening in your life. And… I want… I want so much to be holding you right now."

"Okay," came the soft response as Jane stood, offering her hand to Maura. "You should probably know, then, that you're safe, Maura. I haven't been _with_ anyone in, well, it's been longer than six months." She sighed, glancing down at the ground, away from the woman in front of her. "Besides," she said, blush blossoming across her face, "I don't think I could hide the change in our relationship if I wanted to. I was having a hard enough time keeping people from seeing the drool whenever you walked by _before_ today." She quickly glanced up before returning her gaze to the floor, "And I don't want to hide it anyway. I like the idea of us being exclusive. It's nice," she said in a quiet voice, "belonging to someone."

Maura took Jane's hand and rose from her seat, her own hand shaking just slightly, though her voice was relaxed and even. Rather than moving towards the other room, she stepped in towards her best friend, her free hand slipping around to the small of the taller woman's back. "I've never really liked that idea," she admitted, "but lately it's all I've been thinking about. I want it. I want to be yours. Will you come to bed with me, Jane? Not for… Well, maybe." She had the grace to blush. "But mostly so that I can hold you. I want to see you again the way I saw you when you got off the motorcycle."

"Prone, on top of you, and out of breath?" Jane smirked as Maura nodded, this time not blushing at all.

"I was so disappointed when you got up," Maura murmured, and now she did step slightly backward, towards the other room, both hands gently urging Jane to follow along with her. "I would have been content with that for the entire day."

"Yeah, I think we can manage that." She chuckled, "However you want me, Maura, I'm there."

Maura licked her lips as her posture turned a little sinuous, just the tiniest bit enticing. "I believe we covered that already. Prone, on top of me, and out of breath. And… soon."


End file.
